Thirteenth Times a Charm
by aquaxeyes
Summary: 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and Chlollie. 13/13 Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

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**Author's Notes: **This is my first Smallville fic, so I'm very excited to post this! It's about how Clark realizes he loves Chloe and wants to tell her, but either gets interrupted or doesn't get the technique of saying it quite right. Some are dramatic, some are funny, or at least I think they're funny (which may or may not mean anything). And before I offend people who like other pairings, I did mention Lana in here but not to compare her with Chloe or make her seem better/worse. Just trying to explain where Clark is coming from.

This short story series is inspired from the fact that we've had two Friday the 13th's in a row. And I really couldn't think of anything to write for my other stories, so this is my aside project. Basically, I will be updating every single day until the 13th, when the story will reach its conclusion. At least that's the plan. Thanks.

Oh, p.s. the titles have season/episode information in parentheses as a timeline _reference_.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

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**The First Time****. (Season 5, post-Thirst)**

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They had been friends for years. He had every curve of her face memorized, knew every expression. He knew things about her that no one did, and she him. She accepted him for all that he was. When he felt like he wasn't strong enough, when the world was too hard to save, she was the proverbial light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. She gave him hope, made him feel like he was as strong on the inside as he was outside. Truly, she was part of his identity, his purpose for fighting for the greater good.

He was in love with her, and they had been friends for years.

Clark watched as she strolled across the room, coffee mug in hand, comfortable in the Talon's familiarity. It was a busy Saturday night. The place was packed, but it didn't matter. To him, she was the only one in the room. She beamed one of those genuinely sweet smiles--she had an arsenal of them--at one of the baristas but kept moving, drawing closer to him. Finally, she took a seat in a couch adjacent to his. Her eyes swept over him in a nonchalant onceover. "You look antsy."

He lifted an eyebrow, surprised that she could tell. "Antsy?"

"More like a temperamental bull on speed. Something wrong?"

"No," he said quickly. Too quickly as he saw her eyebrow rise, mirroring his surprise a moment ago.

"Okay, what aren't you telling me? And spare me the Kent charm; I'm completely immune due to overexposure over the years."

He stared at her curious, slightly amused face and almost every nerve in his body fired up. Man, did he want to tell her. Ever since she'd been on the verge of death because of a vampire-like disease, he'd wanted to tell her. It was hard not to remember the soft plea she whispered as she was being infected, the look on her face when she woke up. Everything came back into play. Feelings he thought he had buried. Feelings she might still have for him. The way everything would end up easily working out with her by his side. The more he thought about these things, the faster said thoughts took over his mind.

That's when what Chloe Sullivan meant to Clark Kent became complicated. After all, Chloe was part of his support system. She knew his secret and she still chose to be in his life. More, she put herself on the line time and again to help him and his crusade for justice, no matter what it cost her. She always picked up the phone anytime he called. When she wasn't around, he felt dysfunctional, like he was missing something. Their friendship meant a lot to him, which meant his developing feelings were a potential threat. Would he risk telling Chloe how he felt if their friendship was at stake? Though she took his alien identity well, she could very well walk away from him. He couldn't stand for that to happen.

There was also Lana Lang, his long-time neighbor, high school crush and off-and-on girlfriend, to consider. Lana had been one of the earlier loves of his life, the mysterious raven-haired cheerleader with old soul eyes. He daydreamed about her, he pined after her for so long. The time they'd spent together was short and incredibly sweet. What they had had wasn't something he could just get over. If Chloe didn't walk away after he indulged his latest secret, would she be fine with knowing Lana still occasionally crossed his mind?

That morning, when he woke up and sped through his chores, he took a seat and decided to look at the facts.

Fact: He and Lana were over.

Fact: It was his choice, and he chose not to clue her in on his secret partially to protect her and partially to protect himself.

Fact: Chloe wasn't digging around for his secret when it was shoved in her face.

Fact: Chloe didn't tell a soul, not even him, for months.

Fact: He couldn't have accomplished half the things he had done without her.

Fact: He'd always had feelings for Chloe, but he put them in the backburner because, as awful as it sounded, he knew she'd always be there, loyal to him to the end.

Once he narrowed these facts down, it was pretty simple. Clark considered himself a matured young man, one who had learned about sacrifice, loyalty, love and justice over the years. The truth was that he trusted Chloe to be himself around her, randomly erupting heat vision and all. He didn't have to hold back; his first instinct was always to confide in her. He couldn't say the same for Lana--she was just too unpredictable, and a nagging voice inside his head always kept him from telling her anything. Now that he had dabbled in fresh-eyed puppy love, he realized he wanted the real deal, all or nothing. He wanted sacrifice, he wanted unwavering loyalty, he wanted that long-suffering love and the same desire for justice. He wanted Chloe.

It took him twelve hours to practice the right words. And now, with her staring at him like that, her skinny, no-foam almond latte all but forgotten, he couldn't help but feel an imaginary spotlight shining on him as he struggled to remember them.

Her mouth curved up in a curious smile, encouraging him to say it.

"I love you, Chloe."

As fate would have it, the mixture of the Saturday night crowd, milk constantly being steamed, and baristas calling out to-go orders drowned out his soft-spoken confession.

Her eyes were blank and she furrowed her brows in confusion. "What?"

Clark took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It was bad enough saying it aloud to her once, but she didn't hear it? She needed him to repeat it? He felt his face flood with warmth and forced the urge to set something aflame with his eyes down. Louder. He only needed to say it louder. He cleared his throat--it had suddenly gone dry. "I.. I love.."

Chloe shook her head and scooted closer to the edge of her seat. Moving in closer. "You're going to have to speak up, Clark. Not all of us have superhuman hearing, you know."

"Oh." For a few more seconds, his heart was still racing, adrenaline taking him higher and higher until he reached that point. Fight or flight. He could tell Chloe now and risk their friendship or lie and say it was nothing and in turn risk nothing. To his dismay, he felt his heartbeat skip, then slow down ever so marginally. So much for his morning debate being over the toughest choice he had to make. He'd been sure he could say it without his guts turning into mush. Instead, he found himself nodding at her and saying, "You have a piece of hair on your face."

Chloe pulled back reflexively and tucked the piece he was talking about behind her ear. Then, she mock-glared. "My imperfections bother you that much?"

He gave a helpless smile, which he was sure came off as a smirk since he could barely feel his face.

Next time, he vowed, he would raise the decibels.

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( In his second attempt, Clark tries to spill the beans in the middle of a conversation. Oh, how well that will work out--haha. )


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

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**Author's Notes: **I would like to thank Luna Kompton, Sam and Sculllyga for letting me know what you thought. I appreciate it!

This chapter, like the first one, is short, but the rest of them are going to be (relatively) longer.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

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**The Second Time****.**

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Clark supersped into the Daily Planet, his eyes searching for a particularly elusive blonde intern. He'd been in the middle of investigating what he suspected was a meteor-infected guy creating havoc with the busiest streetlights in Metropolis when the guy caught sight of him. Before Clark could confront him, he took off, causing four--almost five--car crashes in his attempt to shake Clark. It worked. Clark couldn't go after him when people were speeding into each other.

After he made sure the drivers and passengers involved were safe, he tried to go after the guy he saw. No luck. So he did what he naturally did when he was stuck. Visited Chloe.

Ever since she landed that internship months ago, the Daily Planet's basement had been her little niche, but lately, she was permanently attached to her desk. He hadn't seen her outside of that building in a few weeks, and he definitely hadn't seen her in jeans for months. Not that he was complaining. She was, after all, dressed in professional skirts and silk shirts that accentuated her curves. It just bothered him to see how much makeup she was caking on under her reddened eyes, how much coffee she actually went through by herself and how she always seemed to have "just eaten, now let's get to business" whenever he dropped by with food.

When he wasn't thinking of how much he cared for her he was busy feeling guilty for the way she was. She never stopped working or researching. She just kept trying to plow through everything without pause. He felt like he was pushing her to her limits, asking for too much. She probably couldn't even remember what it was like to have a full night's sleep. As in, more than three hours.

He knew he should probably say something or at the very least stop bothering her with his every problem, but he couldn't stop. Chloe was smart; even when she was running on an empty tank she seemed to catch on to things he missed. She was also computer-savvy and knew how to hack her way into all kinds of restricted systems. Where he was more brawn, she had most of the brain, and she would know what to do about the meteor-infected man.

His ears picked up on a distinct laugh--like tinkling bells--and he turned his head toward Chloe's desk. She was there, actually sitting this time, and she was holding a card up under the light of her table lamp. He was over there in two seconds. "That's a sound I haven't heard in a while," he said casually, briefly noting how she didn't flinch even though he snuck up on her.

Chloe closed the card before he could read the inside and spun in her chair. "A "miss you" card; Lois's ploy to try to get me to join her for a shopping spree this Thursday," she explained with a slight roll of her eyes.

"You should go," he said, though the thought of Chloe going out with anyone besides him bothered him.

"Come on, Clark. The last thing I need to do is divert my attention from our latest electrical problem," she replied, referring to the reason he was there.

Though he wanted to argue that she should be spending some time on herself, he knew he had to finish his search--their search--first. "So you already know what he did?"

"Yeah," she said, turning back to her computer and starting to type, "we got the scoop from the News Channel 3 Live helicopters a few minutes ago."

"Did they.. see me?" He had to ask.

"No, they were too focused on this," she said, opening a screen that showed the guy Clark had gone after raising his arms manically in the air and disrupting the traffic lights. Silently, she froze the video feed, zoomed in on the young man's face and began to hack into the Metropolis Police Department's system for a background check.

"Gregory Thames, three charges filed--and dropped--for juvenile vandalism, two reports on breaking and entering--Clark, this guy kick-starts chaos wherever he goes."

"Does he have a home address?"

Chloe shook her head, sending blonde tresses everywhere. "No, but I'm printing his employment records right now. His current job is on the corner of Fifth and Weston.."

When she trailed mid-sentence, he waited, but she didn't say anything. She sighed, double-clicked her mouse a few times, then spun in her chair. And literally jumped a half of a foot at the sight of him. "Clark, what are you still doing here?"

"I was waiting for you to finish," he answered, then furrowed his brow. "Why do you look so surprised?"

"I.. don't know. I guess I just expected you to be halfway to--" she paused, grabbing the printout, and quickly scanned it "--Jo's Bar and Grille by now."

"A few seconds isn't going to hurt," he argued.

"No," she ceded, "but the sooner you stop the electropath, the sooner people will be safe."

What a Chloe thing to say. Give spending time with her up for strangers. He knew that was the right, moral thing to do, but a few seconds.. It wasn't like he was asking for anything unreasonable. Aside from that, he wanted to show Chloe that even though he took what he did seriously, he refused to be a robotic slave for justice.

Of course, she probably hadn't thought about that. All she cared about was protecting and saving people whether she knew them or not.

The urge to say it hadn't hit him since the night at the Talon, but before he could find a way to censor himself, he blurted it out. "I love you."

Chloe crossed her arms. "You better."

Huh? Not exactly the way he expected her to react, especially since "I love you" wasn't sugar-coated, nor did it correlate to what she'd said right before. Did she hear him incorrectly?

She handed him the paper. "Do you know how many laws I seemingly heedlessly broke in the past five minutes?"

Great. She thought he was joking. He says "I love you" and she thinks he speaks too softly, otherwise he's making a humorous comment. He wished he could've stayed longer, made sure Chloe knew exactly what he meant, but there was an electropath to chase, and he was faster. "All right, I owe you lunch."

And then, he decided, then they would sit down, uninterrupted. He would tell her, and he would make sure that she understood that he was in love with her.

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( In his third attempt, Clark tries to cheer Chloe up with his confession. It's kinda cute. )


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

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**Author's Notes: **I would like to thank -StarlightRomance-, dispatcher652, Sculllyga and Luna Kompton for leaving reviews. I enjoyed the comments and reread them when I stumbled upon a block.

So I used a direct scene from Zod because I felt it was awesome and I didn't want to change that. Chlarkers will know which one I mean.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

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**The Third Time****. (Season 6, post-Zod)**

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Clark could feel Chloe's eyes on him and tried not to shrink inconspicuously lower into his seat. He didn't want to give away just how uncomfortable he felt, what with fitting his tall frame into a confined space with a young woman he had overwhelming feelings for. He aimed his focus on the road, determined not to miss a turn.

Somewhere between the dotted lines and the concrete, Clark's thoughts trailed back to Chloe. Beautiful, eccentric, way-too-good-for-him Chloe. A couple of weeks ago, they were facing the end of the world. Milton Fine was corrupting computers nationwide with a Kryptonian virus in an attempt to get Clark to release Zod. All seemed lost. In the midst of the turmoil, Clark made it to the Daily Planet because he had to see Chloe, had to know that she could still make sense of what was going on. As they were talking, a car came crashing through the basement windows, sending shards of glass everywhere. Without thinking he spun her out of harm's way. As he pulled back, he saw the look on her face. He could hear it in her instantly adrenaline-shot heartbeat. Fear.

Clark was furious. Fine's computer virus was putting Chloe and everyone else in his life in danger. It didn't matter that he was able to stop something from happening to her this time, she was scared.

He had to stop Zod.

He wanted to bring Chloe with him, maybe take her to a safer place, but she said no. He had to leave her. Again with the time argument; she would slow him down. Clark turned away without fighting, hating himself with every step when she called out his name. "I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again." Then she kissed him.

Initially surprised, he didn't do much but hold her to him, but then he was kissing her back, trying to hold on to the moment he'd been thinking about for so long. It was actually better than he thought. While they'd kissed before--Chloe always initiating--this was different. This time, he was hoping for it to happen, for her to be in his arms, capturing him in this gentle, intimate touch. This time, he was able to feel how right being with Chloe in that way was.

This time, he felt an unusual wave of sadness washing over, remembering her words. "I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again." He couldn't fathom that.

He wasn't prepared for when she pulled away, though he did remember hearing a ringing in the background. Just like that, the moment was gone. He had to think about more than just what had happened.

Chloe cleared her throat, snapping Clark back to the present. He glanced at her and saw her gesture to his hands, where he had squeezed the steering wheel into little cyclinders of molded metal. He loosened his fingers slowly, mechanically, irritated by how irritated he had gotten.

Chloe shifted in her seat to better face him. "Okay, let's be grown-ups and talk," she said sharply. "Are you mad at me?"

Clark gave her a long look before turning his eyes back to the road. "For what?"

"We're taking longer via car because I didn't have the stomach for the hyper-locomotive, two-second travel."

"I could make it in one second," he said distractedly and turned into Chloe's favorite Italian restaurant--an establishment that had miraculously endured Dark Thursday. "And besides, I promised I would take you out for lunch."

"So then what's got you bending metal objects in a silent tizzy?"

That was Chloe, lucratively descriptive. One more thing that set her apart from other young women. "Nothing," he plainly said. After all, he wasn't going to admit what he was really thinking about. Yet.

"The contorted material that was once your steering wheel begs to differ."

Clark slid into a parking spot and turned the car off. They got out of the car and headed into the restaurant. "Just so you know," he said, taking her arm as they walked, "I could never be mad at you." Feeling a bit bold--he was, after all, planning on telling her he loved her over minestrone--he added, "You're too cute."

"Never say never," Chloe said, completely ignoring the "cute" comment in favor of stepping inside the Italian dive. Clark decided he would let that one go, but there was no way she was going to avoid talking about that kiss she so easily dismissed a few weeks ago.

Speaking of, that still bothered him. He was so relieved to see her alive after getting out of the Phantom Zone and taking care of Zod. He'd come really close to never seeing her again, just like she'd pronounced when she kissed him. One of the things that had kept him going was making sure he would survive long enough to see and hold her after the dust had settled. When he returned to the Daily Planet she was standing there in the middle of the room, the sun hitting her, turning her strands a light gold and her eyes illuminant. Relief surged throughout him and was further relieved when she ran to him and he was able to feel her in his arms once more. He thought that perhaps he would've gotten the chance to tell her then, but as soon as he got around to mentioning the kiss, Chloe attributed her behavior to the end of the world.

Her statement stopped him cold. Just when he was about to put his feelings out there she basically shut him down without knowing it. He could've said the kiss meant more to him. He should've. Maybe things would've been different.

Clark waited until after they placed their orders with the waitress to speak. "So what are you planning on doing until Met U is rebuilt?"

Chloe sighed. "Well, Lois has been gracious enough to spare me some room back at the Talon, and so far we haven't had any Jerry Springer moments.. I guess just commuting from Smallville to Metropolis for the obits and extracurricular research."

"There's got to be more," he said.

"I'm slightly offended," she said playfully, "but no. Let's face it, Clark. We are both lost causes, or rather, lost in causes that absorb most of our free and awake time." No kidding. Her eyes were puffy from exhaustion, which meant that she hadn't been getting any more sleep than before.

He nodded. "The only difference is, I can handle it."

Chloe dipped her head, skeptical. "Are you sure about that? Because you're looking more worse for wear than you give yourself credit."

"Chloe--"

The blonde leaned forward, her eyes keeping him from looking away. "As easy as it was for whole cities to destroy themselves in a matter of hours, no one person, supercharged or not, can fix the damage done overnight."

"It's my fault the conditions got this bad," he shot back. "I have to do whatever I can."

"And I'll do the same," she chimed in, irritation clear on her face.

"But it's not the same."

"Why not?" she flared. "Because you're infinitely more capable than I am of saving people?"

"Because I don't want you to put yourself through any more trouble to help," he stated, hoping he wasn't offending her. "You're straining yourself as is with your work load--"

"I'm finding this train of thought insanely hypocritical," Chloe interrupted.

Before either could speak up, their meal arrived. Chloe took one look at her food, then at Clark. "Can we start over? And avoid conversational road blocks that have arisen over our equally demanding side jobs?"

Clark nodded and obliged her, trying to lighten her mood. He updated her on Pete's whereabouts, how Martha was doing. When he felt like she was starting to relax, he decided it was the perfect time.

Chloe just finished going on about how she missed Martha's homemade baked apple pies when he said, "Can I say something?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

Clark took a deep breath, reminding himself to maintain eye contact and make sure he spoke loud and clear. "I love you."

Chloe sighed, sounding exasperated. "What do you want?"

What? "What?"

"Clark, I see the pattern here," Chloe stated confidently. "You only happen to remember when my lunch break is or which places I frequent when you need a favor."

He was.. astounded. "Is that why you think I took you out today?"

Chloe raised a defensive hand. "Before you get that sad, wounded puppy dog look on your face, I do want to say I don't mind if need help or something. Just spit it out, already."

"Chloe, I brought you here because you haven't left the Daily Planet except to shower and get fresh clothes," he said, silently realizing they were not on topic. Or at least not on the topic that mattered to him.

"So this is some sort of.. intervention?" she guessed.

"I thought we were supposed to be avoiding--"

Chloe's phone beeping cut him off. For a second, she didn't move to get her phone, but when he didn't continue, she dug her phone out of her pocket. "It's Lois." She pressed a few buttons and shock took over "Clark."

Clark leaned over and saw a picture of a building that looked like it was on the verge of collapsing. "That's the financial building six blocks down." He looked closer. "People are still in there."

Chloe closed her phone. "Go. Who knows how long Lois will be able to contain herself before she decides to help out."

He shook his head. "We can go together."

"Someone has to stick around and pay the bill," she pointed out. She motioned for him to stand and get going. "I'll meet you at the Planet afterward."

Great. The Daily Planet. So much for getting her out of there.

"All right," he said. He handed her his car keys and took off--humanly--quickly.

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Clark paced back and forth, feeling like he was burning a path into floor. Where was Chloe? She said she would be back in the bullpen after she paid for the check, so how come she wasn't there? It took him seconds to get to the building, a few minutes to sneak in and sneak people out, then he ran into Lois who insisted on accompanying him back to the Planet to see Chloe. She was currently on her cell phone, trying to get a hold of the blonde.

After leaving a worried voicemail Lois turned to him. "You said you left her in the restaurant an hour ago?"

"Yeah," he nodded, not liking her tone. "She offered to wait for the bill and then meet up with us at the building." It was a partially twisted lie, but the fact remained. Chloe hadn't surfaced.

Lois scowled. "I swear, Smallville, if my cousin is in any danger because of you--"

Some pop ringtone from Lois's cell phone interrupted. A few clipped sentences were exchanged and she was done.

"Where is she?" Clark asked before he registered the distraught look on the brunette's face.

"It's Chlo. She's been mugged."

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( No clues about the fourth attempt, you just have to read it. )


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

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**Author's Notes: **I would like to thank -StarlightRomance-, ali08, mar1985, dispatcher652, and Luna Kompton for leaving reviews. It's fun to hear from you!

In this chapter you'll find that Chloe has knowledge of Lex's 33.1 lab facilities and that Lois and Clark haven't met Oliver Queen.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

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**The Fourth Time****.**

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It took all of Clark's willpower not to speed out of there and find his best friend. The only thing stopping him was the idea that if Lois saw him disappear into thin air, she would probably never let him get within ten feet of Chloe ever again. Chloe.. "H-how?" he managed to ask.

Lois turned to him, glaring daggers. "I'll tell you how. You left her alone a few weeks after the city was almost destroyed by rioters. Nice job, Smallville," she spat.

Clark wished he could say something snippy in response, but Lois wasn't mistaken. He _did_ leave Chloe back at the restaurant. "You're right," he said, his face straining from the angst he felt inside. "I left her, and I shouldn't have. This is all my fault."

"Spare me the brooding," Lois said, heading for the exit. "She's on top of the bank at the corner of Ashland and Midway. I told her to stay put until we got there."

On top of a building? "What's she doing there?" he asked, following after her.

"Believe it or not, I don't have all the answers. Let's just make sure Chloe's okay first before bombarding her with questions." With that, she waltzed up the stairs without checking to see if he would follow.

He should've sped off without her, but he didn't think he wanted to piss Lois off more than he already had. She already blamed him for Chloe's mugging. If he got there first, he would be subject to "How the hell did you get here so fast?" and "If you'd gotten here so fast, you could've easily waited for Chlo before hightailing it out of the restaurant". Resigned, he went after her, hoping Chloe would be all right until they got there.

* * *

Clark could've sworn Lois was gasping for air as they raced to reach the roof, but she didn't seem to notice. He supposed the closer they got to Chloe, the less she thought of her own well-being and picked up the pace. They burst through the door leading to the roof in record time and saw Chloe simply standing there, waiting. Actually, she looked like she was looking at something far off in the distance. "Chloe!" he called and saw her face turn toward them.

Clark ran over to her, not caring if Lois had joined him or not. When he got within proper distance he took her in his arms. "Chloe, are you all right?" he asked, his cheek pressed against her hair. She was shaking. God, she felt so fragile.

"Yeah," Chloe said as she pulled away. She gave Clark a reassuring grin. "I'm fine."

He scanned her face and noticed a gash on the top left corner of her head.

Chloe knew what he was looking at. "It's nothing."

"No," Lois corrected, stepping closer toward her cousin, "it's bleeding, turning purple, and protruding from your head. What the hell happened, Chlo?"

Chloe took a step back from Clark and looked away, scanning her memory. "I.. I was walking to Clark's car when some guy confronted me and threatened to gank me if I didn't hand my keys, purse and shoes over."

"Shoes?" Lois and Clark dropped their gaze to the aforementioned possessions.

Chloe gave a helpless smile. "I kind of borrowed them from your closet."

Lois didn't make a show of being upset, probably because she was still dwelling on the fact that her cousin was injured.

"Anyway, I faked like I was handing my purse over and let him get a slight dose of my taser, thinking I was home free." A troubled look came over Chloe's face, making Clark ball his hand into a fist. "Turns out thugs come in pairs now," she simply said.

Clark studied her, knowing that she was trying to find a way to explain what happened in a way that wouldn't upset Lois. Or him. Like there was a way. She glanced at him, understood what he was thinking, and said, "He pistol-whipped me and seriously, I saw lights. I almost blacked out but then.."

Lois motioned for Chloe to continue. "But then..?"

"But then.." Chloe snuck a peek at the remains of Metropolis, then, "A hooded man with a fetish for green leather literally dropped in and saved me."

Lois's face wrinkled up in confusion. "Green leather?"

Chloe nodded. "He knocked the guy out in a few swift "Bourne Identity" moves. It was pretty suave."

Suave. That was a high compliment coming from Chloe's lips. "Was he meteor-infected?" Clark had to ask.

"No," Chloe answered, shaking her head adamantly. "No metahuman abilities. No special powers."

"How'd you wind up here?" Lois asked, not understanding why Chloe's rescuer having meteor-caused powers would be a problem for them.

"My taser victim came to as I was thanking him and charged at us. The guy had this technologically-enhanced weapon--a bow and some unusual arrows--that he used to sweep me off my feet."

"Let me guess," Lois said. "Literally?"

Chloe nodded, smiling. "It was cool."

For a second, Clark forgot how serious the matter was in front of that smile. It was one he hadn't seen since high school, when Chloe was a curious, carefree girl. A girl who wasn't burdened with the secrets she now had to bear. As if on cue to his spiraling downward thoughts, Chloe's expression took on a pained one and she brought a hand to her head.

"Look, we can talk about this later, after you've been checked out," Clark said. Without warning her he picked Chloe up bridal style.

Chloe let out a sound of surprise and then protest. "Clark, I'm fine. I can walk," she said.

He refused to be outdone. If some random vigilante dressed in green could swoop Chloe off her feet, he could, too. "You could have a concussion," he said, walking to the roof door.

"You can't mean to carry her all the way to my car," Lois said, trailing behind them. "You'll pull a muscle."

Clark ignored the dig and kept walking.

"I don't trust you to carry my cousin like that down thirteen flights of stairs."

"Then we'll take the elevator," he compromised.

"Way to assert your caveman ego, Smallville--"

"Would you mind toning it down, Lois?" Clark asked, stopping and turning around to reveal a sleeping Chloe against his shoulder.

* * *

Clark watched Lois leave the hospital room with a determined look in her eyes right before he slipped into Chloe's room. The blonde was laying down under some blankets, not strapped to any IV's. Over the years, this scenario had become more and more frequent. As usual, he began with, "How are you feeling?"

Chloe sat up and took a deep breath. "Hopeful. Lois is going to smuggle a burger and maybe some fries while I'm in isolation."

Clark looked around. "A comfortable hospital room doesn't seem much like isolation."

"Clark, they're forcing me to stay for overnight surveillance. It's completely unnecessary--see?" she asked, pointing at the bumpy bruise surrounding a gash that required two butterfly bandages. "This, I can deal with."

"Hey," Clark said, raising his hands defensively, "it was the doctor's call. Don't kill the guy who came to check up on his best friend."

Chloe slowly gave in to a smile, reminding Clark of what he wanted to talk to her about. "You're hiding something."

"I hide lots of somethings," she said, referring to him.

"I'm talking about on the rooftop," Clark clarified. "I saw a look on your face. Chloe, what aren't you telling me?"

He could tell that she was trying to contemplate her next move. Try to pretext and risk him being able to tell, or tell him the truth. Meeting his gaze, she said, "I've sort of been doing some extra moonlighting gigs for someone."

Someone? "Who?"

"He calls himself The Archer," she answered, her voice holding just a small amount of mystery.

To Clark, The Archer sounded too mysterious. Why didn't he tell Chloe his real identity so that they could collaborate properly?

Again, Chloe read his mind. "I know, I know. Shady. But Clark, what he's doing.. I'm helping him find Lex's 33.1 labs."

Stunned didn't cover what Clark felt. Chloe was helping someone else work against Lex? And it all happened right under his nose? "Chloe, are you sure this isn't a trap? For all you know, Lex could be behind it all, pretending to be some secret vigilante."

"If that were true, what would Luthor Junior accomplish by letting me find his top secret workshop of horrors?" Chloe asked, to which Clark had no answer. "Clark, this guy is real. He has no other angle except trying to take Lex down. He entrusted me with extremely important information. That's why I think Lex hired those two men to mug me."

Clark couldn't believe what she was saying, but he had no reason not to. "What kind of important information?"

"Files on all of Lex's patients. They're in a flash drive on my keys."

Clark shook his head, understanding. "They wanted that flash drive."

Chloe nodded. "The overwhleming kicker to what happened was being saved by a leather-clad man in night goggles and a voice distorter. I think he's The Archer."

For all her intriguing revelations, Clark could not feign excitement. "Chloe, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew what would happen," she responded. "You would blame yourself for anything and everything that happens to me, and you'd want to get involved."

"Something wrong with that?"

"I guess not," she agreed, "but you have a lot on your plate. The Archer is trying to help, and so am I. Let us."

Before Clark could concede under Chloe's hypnotic gaze Lois interrupted, bearing food gifts. He decided to take his leave then and said goodnight.

* * *

A few hours later, after Clark acknowledged the fact that he couldn't sleep, he went back to the hospital, speeding past anyone who might kick him out for trying to visit off-hours. Once inside Chloe's room, he closed in until he was standing right by her side.

She slept peacefully, eyes fully closed, her breathing soft and regular. The moonlight poured in from her window, lightening her skin. She looked like a porcelain angel with her hair fanned out against her pillow. He couldn't stop himself from smoothing a bang away from her forehead, the same one that was in her eyes when he told her he loved her the first time. She stirred a little and turned on her side, continuing to sleep.

It may not have been the appropriate timing, but he said it anyway, hoping that in some way, she might have heard.

"I love you, Chloe Sullivan."

( **A/N:** The following are bonus scenes I decided to add from Chloe's point of view! )

Chloe felt the brush of a whisper reaching out to her, calling her from her slumber. She followed it, curious, and swam back to the state of consciousness. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared straight into the paleness of the moon. Confused, she turned around, hoping that she'd see someone, but nobody was there.

* * *

Chloe blinked hard, trying not to wipe her eyes. No, wiping her eyes would require her to bring her hand to her face, which would require her to stop typing with said hand to alleviate the tiredness in her eyes. Her article, an expose on the 33.1 labs founded by Lex Luthor that engaged in inhuman practices, was too important to allow herself to stop.

She finished the last sentence of the paragraph and moved on when she realized she needed a bit more information for the next part. She glanced over at the paper she needed, one among the many that were spread across her desk. Absent-mindedly she reached over to grab it, only to touch something warm and fleshy. Surprised, she looked up. Even more surprised, she snapped back like an elastic band in her chair.

"Sorry," the man whose hand she had come into contact with said, "Did I scare you?"

He beamed her with that almost familiar smile. "Ms. Chloe Sullivan," he said, and her heart stopped beating altogether. "I'm glad we finally get to meet. Queen, Oliver Queen--"

"Heir to Queen Industries, the playboy billionaire plastered on more than a few magazines and newspapers, and owner of The Emerald, one of Metropolis's hot spot night clubs," Chloe interrupted, saying it aloud to remind herself of who he was, "Yes, I'm quite aware of who you are. How in the hell did you find me?"

The only time they'd ever met was when Chloe was doing a follow-up investigation The Archer requested she do a few weeks before she was mugged. The guy she was supposed to be spying on never showed, and instead, she ran into _him_. Oliver Queen. So into himself was he that he didn't understand how she could walk away from him after accidentally bumping into him. He approached her a few moments later, introducing himself. Chloe, smart enough not to fall for it, told him her name was Lois Lane, reporter.

After a drink or two, Chloe decided to go, but not before Oliver thanked her for being the only woman that night who wasn't talking to him because of his money. He insinuated that they should've gotten a hotel room, and that's when Chloe went off on him.

She thought she'd never have to see him again, yet there he stood. In the flesh.

"Chloe--it is Chloe, isn't it?" he said, his eyes teasing. "You must obviously have been aware that this playboy billionaire has resources that can literally find a needle in a haystack. It wasn't hard to track a young reporter by the name of Lois down, although I was more than surprised to find a tall brunette that looked nothing like the girl I'd met at The Emerald."

"And somehow, after asking her a few nonintrusive questions followed by a full-blown desk snooping you found the missing link?"

"No," he answered, ignoring the bait she set up, "Lois told me that I could find her _cousin_ here."

Chloe pretended nonchalance, but if Lois really said that, it meant she wasn't too happy about Chloe using her name to ward off cute boy millionaires. That, or she felt like throwing this cute boy millionaire at her in the hopes that she would actually--gasps--express some sort of interest in the male race. She should be offended.

"Mr. Queen, I'll have you know that I'm not interested in anything you have to offer." Hotel room or otherwise.

He crossed his arms, refusing to back down. "I could give you an interview."

"Tempting," she said half-sarcastically, "but a rehearsed quote or two isn't going to provide more insight into your kind of lifestyle."

"How about I let you get the in-depth scoop," he said, leaning into her as if to tell her a secret. "I'll let you probe as much as you want."

She didn't bother to roll her eyes. "Double-entendres are for middle schoolers."

He smiled at that. "You got me. I haven't aged a day."

Chloe stepped back, not liking how she felt with him that close. "I'm a working girl, Mr. Queen. So unless you have something important to tell me--"

The words rushed right out of her when she was pulled from behind and held against him. "How about "I didn't send you to The Emerald to check a guy out"?"

That's when Chloe pieced it together. The Emerald; green leather. Tecnologically-enhanced weapons; millionaire. The way he was holding her against him now was the same way he held her when he pulled her away from Lex's thieves. She turned, looking up into a face that she realized was more familiar than a not-so-chance meeting at a night club.

Oliver smirked. "I've been looking for you for a while, Chloe Sullivan."

* * *

( Clark's fifth attempt to tell Chloe those three infamous words are sparked by the presence of the Justice League. Exciting! )


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Super thank-you's to LadyAlchemy (twice), Sam, dispatcher652, summergirlforever, Sculllyga, and Luna Kompton for leaving reviews. Love reading feedback and replying, though you may not have liked it since I'm sick and have been sending out half-written responses. Sorry if I sounded shady, you know I appreciate you!

Forgot to mention that the scene between Chloe and Oliver in the last chapter was a week after she got out of the hospital, and she's doing the graveyard shift, so no one else is hanging around the bullpen.

Also, I've been compiling a list of songs that would epitomize the mood of the chapters I've written so far. Admittedly, they are chick songs..

Say - The Corrs  
Lovefool - The Cardigans  
My Heaven - Mikaila  
Walking Behind - The Moffatts  
Spell - Marie Digby  
Someone Like You - Matt Wertz  
The Nearness of You - Norah Jones  
Can't Say - BBMak  
Innocence - Avril Lavigne  
Build The Moon - Charlotte Sometimes  
Silence - Aly & AJ  
Cigarette - Yellowcard

These are some of the go-to songs on my playlist to help me understand what's going on in the minds of these characters. All right, that is all!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

* * *

**The Fifth Time****.**

* * *

Chloe couldn't believe it. This obnoxious millionaire was The Archer? How was that possible? The way he saved her, the way he gently held her in his arms as they took off in the air.. There was no way Oliver Queen was The Archer. "I think you've got me mistaken for someone else."

"No," he said, shaking his head a little, "I think I've hit the bull's eye. How's your head by the way?"

Chloe was unconvinced that he knew about her head gash because he was there when she got it. After all, the almost-gone injury on her head was visible to everyone. "It's fine," she said, crossing her arms.

He took in her defensive stance and smiled. "You don't believe me."

Chloe was irked. Was she that open of a book for him to tell what she was thinking? Stepping further away from him she moved behind her desk, putting it between them. "I'm a reporter, Mr. Queen--"

"Oliver," he interjected.

She ignored him. "I rarely take anybody at face value."

"Okay," he said, smile still on his face, "then test me."

"Where was I when you found me?" she said, carefully keeping doubt out of her tone.

"In a parking lot outside of a restaurant."

Okay, so he was right. That didn't mean that he was the hooded man that saved her. The same man that she'd been working with for weeks and one she admired for trying to get under Lex's skin. "That guy that almost mugged me, what did he look like?"

"There were two. One was a blonde, green eyes, five-eleven, weighed about two-fifty. The other one was a carrot top with brown eyes, six-two, and on the thinner side."

Chloe was uncertain what to make of that response, but before she could say anything, Oliver went on. "You, on the other hand, were a striking sight for very sore eyes. You wore a black skirt, a white chiffon top, a green peacoat and three-inchers. Top that with the hair, the eyes, and the taser," he paused, making a face that made her blush, "I couldn't have asked for a better sidekick."

A sudden thought struck her. "Wait, if you were watching me take the first guy down, why didn't you give me a heads up about the second one?"

"I was too busy watching a beautiful woman in heels bringing a man twice her size to his knees to notice the other goon until it was too late."

There were a few times in Chloe's life where she would be at a loss for words. This was one of those times.

From what she gathered about working with The Archer, he was an intelligent, compassionate, selfless individual. From what she'd read about Oliver Queen, he was an arrogant business tycoon and an avid fan of ladies. The no-strings-attached kind. The two personas were thoroughly different. And right now, she was dealing with the one she couldn't handle; he was blatantly flirting with her, turning on and up the great machismo. Basically, he was lying. She could guess what she looked like, having gone through already five hours of the graveyard shift. Her suit was probably wrinkled everywhere. Something, ink or makeup, was probably streaked across her face. And her hair.. She was sure that by now the only thing that hadn't fallen was her driven spirit. "Maybe it was the peacoat," she finally mumbled.

"Maybe," he simply said. He continued to stare at her.

Chloe forced herself not to fidget. Oliver Queen was a successful businessman; he was trying to unnerve her by looking at her like that. She was not going to let him. "I suppose you're not here just to boost my self-esteem. What brings you to Metropolis?"

"Star City was getting boring. I needed a change of scenery."

She arched a brow. "That include robbing all of the rich and famous in Metropolis?"

Oliver's grin was like that of a tiger with a worthy prey in its claws. "I knew you would know Clark Kent."

Chloe's expression dissolved into concern. "How do you know about Clark?"

"We've met under formal and informal setttings," Oliver said elusively. Two seconds later, he admitted, "He followed me during one of my most ambitious heists to date."

Chloe bit her lip, feeling guilty. After the mugging incident Chloe knew Clark expected some change, that she would tell him everything about her dealings with The Archer. She didn't. Although she didn't have a contract binding her from spilling her guts, she'd decided that it really wasn't Clark's business and that he didn't have to know what she did in her miniscule spare time. She tried to subtly remind him that he was still one of her top priorities, but the message didn't stick too well. He must've wanted to make sure The Archer was a good guy and tailed him. "I'll pass along a cease and desist request."

"That's the complete opposite of what I want you to do," Oliver said, walking to the front of her desk. He placed his two hands on the top and leaned forward. "I want you to ask Clark Kent if he would be interested in working with us."

"Us, as in us?" she asked, motioning to him and herself.

One side of Oliver's mouth kicked up. "Close, but let's just say there's more than just you and I out there trying to do some good."

"A grand coalition."

"Close again," he said, straightening. "I call it the Justice League."

Her inquisitive streak couldn't leave the subject alone. "Does this League perchance have metahuman members in its service?"

"You mean like Clark?"

She was itching to correct him, but she'd trained herself not to ever do that. "Does it?"

Oliver nodded. "We have this kid who can run faster than anyone I've ever seen. Actually," he corrected, "I can't see him when he runs."

Chloe had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "You're not talking about Bart Allen, are you?"

He looked surprised, which was kind of comforting. "You know Impulse?"

She nodded.

"Huh," he said, shrugging and going on. "We also have this guy who's like Impulse, but in water--"

"Arthur Curry?" Chloe guessed, which wound up sounding more like a statement when Oliver's face leaked surprise yet again.

"We call him Aquaman. And Cyborg.." Oliver stopped himself and simply asked, "Do you know Victor Stone, too?"

"Him, I didn't meet in person, but I did help him a while back and--what?" Oliver was shaking her head, and she wanted to know why.

"I"m just.. surprised."

"I couldn't tell," she said, losing the sarcastic bite to a smile. "I grew up in Smallville, a town where weird is the trend."

She saw a question looking in his eyes and waited for it. "So.. you're entirely desensitized by the weird?"

"Mostly."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"No."

"Scare you?"

Chloe sighed. "At times."

"It's dangerous to befriend people like Clark, Bart, Victor or A.C.," Oliver pointed out.

"There's danger everywhere. I guess I'm just trying to make the most out of an awful situation."

Oliver thought about that for a second. "Are you sure you don't have any special powers or abilities?"

Before she could stop herself, she let out a laugh. "Not that I'm aware of, but I'll be sure to let the one who does know you're recruiting."

"This isn't an invitation for just Clark," he clarified. "I came here because I wanted to ask you, too."

She furrowed her brow. "I thought you already hired me as your personal one-man geek squad."

"Yeah, but I was hoping for a little bit more." He made a face, and she felt awkward presuming the statement could be interpreted two ways.

She decided that he wasn't trying to flirt with her at that point. It seemed that as soon as she asked why he was dropping by, the playboy in him shut down and he became the focused, direct hero she'd come to know. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

Clark scuffled around, trying to make sure he didn't miss anything that was out of place. No random objects to trip over, no noise, no thugs. Check, check, check. The kitchen was flooded with vases housing wild tulips he gathered from a special shop in Metropolis. There were two or three in each vase, mixed so each one stood out more. No like tulips placed together. Check.

He took a step back, smiling despite how girly he felt. _This_ time, things would go through as planned. He'd tell Chloe he loved her. If he couldn't.. Well, as the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. Should he fail, the flowers would speak up for him. He started to pour a cup of coffee--Chloe was due any minute--when he heard the screen door swing open. "Chloe, he said, turning around, "I was just--" He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Clark," Bart said, a smile on his face, "What's happening, hombre?"

Okay, not who he expected. Seeing Bart when he should've been expecting Chloe was like showing a kid ice cream then shoving spinach down his throat. Oh yeah, Bart asked him a question. What _was_ happening? "N-nothing.. What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd drop by." Bart took a few steps, looking around. "These are.. overwhelming."

Clark wrinkled his face. "You think they're too much?"

Bart turned back to him. "What are you trying to say?"

Clark knew he couldn't lie to Bart. Bart walked in on him, and he thought that it was Chloe. There was no use in trying to save face and who knew; maybe Bart would see how important the situation was for him and leave before Chloe got there. "I'm trying to tell Chloe.."

"Tell me what?" came a voice from the doorway.

Both Bart and Clark glanced at the door. Chloe was standing there, hair in a pontytail, in a t-shirt and jeans. Clark thought she never looked so beautiful.

Before either guys could say anything, Chloe's eyes scanned the room. If Clark wasn't mistaken, she was filled with awe. Her mouth actually dropped a little, and her heartbeat had picked up. "Bart, you shouldn't have," she said, cooing over the flowers.

Clark reeled. She thought Bart was the one who orchestrated this gesture? This was his house! He began to speak up, tell her she was making a wrong assumption, but Bart practically jumped up to take credit.

"Chloe, mamacita, you deserve all this and more," Bart said, beaming her with a goofy, lovelorn smile.

Chloe flashed him a genuine smile. "Thank you. These are beautiful."

"They're not the only ones," he said.

Clark heaved a sigh. Bart wasn't even trying to tell Chloe those tulips weren't from him. He should've known something would happen, predictable or not, to prevent him from being with Chloe uninterrupted.

"What brings you here?" she asked.

"I was just telling Clark that you two are being summoned to Queen Tower for a little League chat," Bart said politely.

Clark scoffed inside. Bart was an incredible liar today. "What's this chat about?"

"Whether or not you'll be joining us indefinitely," came the explanation.

Ah yes, Clark remembered, the chat about becoming a member of the Justice League. Chloe had briefed him a month ago on Oliver's proposition, become part of a team of do-gooders that had special attributes. The problem was, Clark felt like he could operate better by himself--and with Chloe. He didn't need more teammates, just Chloe, and he didn't like that Oliver was trying to recruit her, too. That was asking for trouble and put her at more risk. He told Chloe, who told Oliver, that he would think about it. Secretly, he was hoping Oliver would drop the invitation if he held out long enough. He should've known Oliver would be patient and wait it out; important business deals were made that way and Oliver was an experienced businessman.

Bart took Clark's silence as irritation for dropping by--which wasn't off by that much--and said, "Look, I would hang around, but the boss says I gotta bust a move on this latest mission. Chloe-bonita, as usual, a pleasure seeing you."

"Likewise," Chloe said, amused.

As quick as he'd arrived and ruined Clark surprise, he was gone. Clark turned to his best friend, upset. "How come you think it was Bart who got you these?"

Chloe shrugged and went to fix her coffee. "Who else would it have been? I do recall confiding to the speed demon that tulips were my favorite."

"I was there," Clark pointed out. "It could've been me." And it was.

Setting the coffee pot back on the burner, she turned and gave Clark a blank look. "Where's this going?"

He should've spoken up then. Should've said, "I got you those tulips, not Bart, because I care about you. Don't you see? I love you." Alternatively, he muttered, "Nowhere."

Chloe's face softened. "Look, I'm sorry if I offended you, Clark, but I didn't mean anything by it. I just.. I know Bart's fully capable of expressing his fliratious side--"

Clark had to look around the room again. "You think that's all this is?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, our lightning-fast friend has mentioned that I'm slightly more appealing than the average blonde."

"I don't know. If I'd gotten these for you, they would mean more "I love you" than "you're slightly more appealing than the average blonde"." Way more.

"Noted, but I think it's only because I'm the only female he's been constantly exposed to over the past week. Oliver's been working him into the ground, pun aside."

Clark watched incredulously as Chloe perched herself on a stool and began sipping her coffee. She set her mug down to touch the petals on the nearest flower. She smiled to herself, making the moment feel so bittersweet. How could she be so content without knowing who those flowers were really from? "Chloe," he began, "what if these flowers were supposed to mean "I love you"?"

"Clark," she said, sounding exasperated, "Bart and I are friends and he knows it. Nothing could change that."

He had to be a damn masochist, because he asked, "What if these were from me?"

Chloe glanced at the tulips, then back at him. "I'd be grateful if either of you two went out of your way to get me these."

Great. Bart could've gotten them, and she wouldn't have cared.

* * *

Three weeks passed after Clark and Chloe had gone to the Justice League headquarters. Three weeks since Clark told Oliver he didn't see himself as a team player. Three weeks since Chloe said yes, she wouldn't mind taking the job. Since then, Clark had seen her three times a week--compared to every day--and only had conversations with her that lasted more than a few sentences once a week.

Clark wanted to ignore his cell phone when it began ringing but it was Chloe, so he answered. "Hello?"

"Clark," Chloe said, an edge of panic coating her voice, "can you come to Queen Tower?"

Two seconds later, he was there and taking the elevator up to the loft. Once he reached the top, he stepped out and saw Chloe standing there with Oliver. Both their faces were grim. Clark looked over to lounge area and saw Victor and A.C. sitting on the couches with the same expression. "What's going on, Chloe?"

Chloe turned to him. "Bart walked into a trap."

Clark's stomach turned. That statement spoke volumes. "What happened?"

This time, Oliver spoke. "He was doing recon at a 33.1 facility when he went AWOL."

"He dropped completely off the radar," Chloe added. "Victor and I have tried locating him to no avail."

Clark had no time to get upset that Chloe called him at the last minute instead of involving him earlier than this. "Where's the facility?"

"Indiana," Chloe answered, pulling an address and map out for him to see. "Not exactly within walking distance."

"We're flying in half an hour," Oliver stated.

Clark's jaw locked. Plenty of things could be done to Bart in half an hour. "If I'm not back in twenty minutes, take that flight," he said and turned to get back to the elevator.

"Clark," Chloe called out.

He turned. She ran to him and for a second, déjà vu washed over him. This reminded him of the time she kissed him in the bullpen at the Daily Planet. Tonight, however, she was running to slip an invisible earpiece on him. He relished her soft fingers on his face, wishing she'd just kiss him again. Instead, she looked into his eyes intently and said, "Be careful."

* * *

( The sixth attempt is going to be something I'm randomly cooking up since I have a sinus infection and am on a delirious Benadryl trip. )


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Giving heartfelt thank-you's to -StarlightRomance-, dispatcher652, Sculllyga, Luna Kompton, ali08, and LadyAlchemy for leaving reviews and well wishes. This extra-long chapter's for you!

There's a lot more Chlollie in this chapter than Chlark, but I think it helps set the dynamic between the three characters.

Here's another handful of songs that'll help set the tone:

Immune - Melanie Chisholm  
On Fire - Switchfoot  
Wanna Be - Nine Days  
You and I - Paul Freeman  
You're My Best Friend - Queen  
Gravity (live version) - Sara Bareilles

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

* * *

**The Sixth Time****.**

* * *

Clark was in a bad mood.

He found the building four minutes after he left Queen Tower and practically tore through the wire fence in his anger. Why was Chloe with those guys? Wasn't she happy doing what she'd always done with him? Was she intentionally trying to distance herself? He rushed past a guard and straight into the facility. Maybe she was starting to like working with the League more than with him.

Okay, so he was insecure. Couldn't help it. Chloe was his best friend, his guide and conscience. If someone--or something--were to take his co-conspirator away, he should feel threatened. But how ridiculous did it sound that a League was taking Chloe away from him?

"Boy Scout," a voice rang from his right ear, "You there?" Speaking of the blonde..

Ugh, why Oliver chose Boy Scout as his code name, he'll never know. He was just glad that since he wasn't a League member, he'd only have to hear it a couple of times in his life. Like when he was bailing out a friend. "Yeah," he replied, "I'm inside the building."

"Boy Scout, I want you to turn around and come back to the den."

What? Was she joking? Bart was his friend. The kid had grown on him when he arrived in Smallville to steal a map from Lex. "Watchtower, I'm not leaving Impulse here while they run tests on him or torture him." Not to mention that they could make him talk, make him compromise every member in the League. He was trying to find Bart to protect them all, especially Chloe. He sped down a few halls when he came to a vault-like door.

"Trust me, Boy Scout," Chloe said, and he could hear a hint of worry in her tone, "This is for your.. good.. There's.. surrounded in.."

Clark tried to concentrate on her voice through the white noise, but she was fading in and out as he approached the door. "Watchtower, you're breaking up. Can you hear me?"

"Boy Scout.. do you.."

The earpiece went dead.

Clark sighed. Whatever Chloe was trying to tell him, he couldn't hear. He contemplated taking her advice and returning to Queen Tower, but he was already inside the facility. He couldn't turn his back on Bart now. And he was going to show Chloe that he was as capable of completing missions as the whole League.

He pulled the door open and it felt like a wall of impenetrable material hit him. Next thing he knew he felt like his blood was heating up, waves upon waves of radiation making every cell in his body scream out in pain. He doubled over, not able to bear it. He felt like his skin was on fire, and his heart was pounding so fast, he thought it would actually burst. As he lay there on the floor, writhing, he looked up, tried to catch his bearings.

Kryptonite.

The walls were lined with shelves of Kryptonite.

* * *

Chloe bit her lip as she watched Clark take off. She knew how strong and how fast Clark was, but she couldn't rid herself of the feeling that, like Bart, he would walk into a trap. For two minutes, she walked back and forth, ignoring the looks Victor and A.C. gave her. She couldn't spend her time trying to assure them that everything would be okay. Something was bothering her, and she had to figure out what.

Then it hit her. "Oliver," she said, breaking out of her focused trance, "Can you pull the floor plan up?"

He nodded, surprising her by not asking why. When the blueprints of the facility were on the giant screen Oliver'd set up, she scanned every hallway and room until she spotted it. "Oh.. no," she breathed.

This time, Oliver asked, "What?"

Chloe grabbed a communication device. "Clark's in trouble," she explained, hooking it up to her ear. Once she made sure she was set on a frequency that wouldn't be tapped easily, she turned it on and said, "Boy Scout, you there?"

She didn't understand why Oliver had to choose that name for Clark, but she'd gotten so used to the other guys' code names that it didn't feel very weird to call him that.

"Yeah," came the response, "I'm inside the building."

Chloe shook her head. "Boy Scout, I want you to turn around and come back to the den."

She could hear a little bit of feedback in the background as Clark debated on what to do. Eventually, she heard, "Watchtower, I'm not leaving Impulse here while they run tests on him or torture him."

She wished she could lay it out for him, tell him exactly what was going on, but in case they were being eavesdropped on, she had to play it safe. "Trust me, Boy Scout, this is for your own good. There's a vault somewhere in the facility that's surrounded in lead. You know what that means."

"Watch.. you're breaking.. hear me?"

"Boy Scout," she said, not bothering to hide her desperation, "do you hear me? Boy Scout--"

A buzzing noise replaced Clark's voice so loud that it made Chloe jump and grab the communicator away from her ear like a bug.

"Sidekick!" Oliver exclaimed, holding her arm to calm her, "Are you all right?"

It took a second for her heart to stop beating furiously, but she managed to say, "Yes. But I can't say the same for Clark."

"What happened?" Victor, who had abandoned his chair with A.C. to join them, asked.

Chloe cleared her throat and struggled with the right words. "This isn't going to make any sense, but Clark has a severe allergy to the meteor rocks found in Smallville."

"Doesn't sound that inept to me," A.C. said.

She gave him a weak smile. "The rocks give off radiation that can mutate a human's cells and give them special abilities, or for others, prove fatal. The only way to contain the radiation is to keep the rocks incased in lead." She got her bearings and stepped toward the screen. "Lex has been sending large shipments of meteor rock out-of-state. I know this because he's been containing them here," she said and pointed to the section on the floor plan that denoted that it was made of lead, "in this room. And I think Clark just found it."

She turned to Oliver, the leader, knowing that whatever was to happen would be his call. But it seemed more like he was studying her, trying to decipher her face. He wasn't successful.

A throat cleared. It might have been A.C. "We're just, uh, going to get geared up now."

Silence.

"Wheels up in ten, right?" Victor asked.

Silence.

A.C. sighed. "We're going to go.. away." And they did just that.

Chloe shifted her weight, uneasy. That was the problem. With Oliver, she always felt uneasy. It wasn't a bad problem, just a problem that seemed to have her always breaking the ice first. "I'm sorry," she blurted.

"For what?" he asked, that look never leaving his face.

"I just added another name to your rescue list," she said, trying to look away and failing.

"You have nothing to apologize for." He said it so confidently that she almost believed him. He realized she was still uncertain, so he picked the communicator she'd removed earlier and placed it in her hand. "Be my Watchtower?"

Chloe nodded, trying to give him an encouraging smile.

A few minutes later, Victor and A.C. returned, ready to go. Oliver grabbed his duffel--Chloe felt even worse because he spent his gearing up time to cheer her up--and said, "If anything goes wrong, I know you'll be able to catch it."

"Be careful," she said to them all. Then they took off.

* * *

Clark was vaguely aware of voices. Voice of two people talking softly. How far away, he couldn't tell, but they were close. He could hear Chloe. She sounded upset. "This is all my fault."

"Hey," Oliver, the other voice, said, "Clark was the one who decided to find Bart solo. You had nothing to do with it."

"I never should have called him," she said, her voice thick with tears.

"You were asking a friend for help. I would've done the same thing. It's not like you knew Lex would have stocked up on killer meteor rocks.. _did you_?"

Clark could practically hear Chloe deadpan him. "Funny. Very funny."

"I know. I'm a riot."

There was a lengthy silence until Oliver asked, "Do you know how long he'll be out?"

"I don't. But I'm hoping he'll wake up soon."

"Okay. I'm going to check in with the guys. I'll be back."

"Okay.. Oliver," Chloe called out. Clark heard a break in footsteps. "Thank you." A moment later, the footsteps were nothing but a soft echo until they were completely gone.

He heard a distinct footfall come his way before feeling a familiar hand take his. Chloe.

Clark wanted to open his eyes--wanted to see her--but he felt so weak. Whatever he'd gone through did a real number on him. He could barely move. He felt like his body was a mass of frozen rubber--not a flattering image.

He felt Chloe's hand twitch involuntarily right before she pressed his hand to her soft cheek. A second later, he heard her take an uneasy breath, and then he felt a.. tear?

Chloe was crying. Over him.

No.. No, he didn't want her to cry. Especially not because of him. Chloe, don't cry.. "I.."

Suddenly, Chloe's cheek was out of reach, but then he felt her other hand on his face. "Clark? Clark, can you hear me?"

He didn't know how long he was going to be able to stay awake. His throat was burning and swollen. But he had to tell her right now. "I.. love.. you."

There was a pregnant pause, followed by, "Clark, it's me. Chloe."

That stung. He knew it was Chloe. Who else could he have been talking to? He wished he could've asked but the effort to tell her those three words had exhausted him and so he succumbed to the darkness once again.

* * *

When Clark finally came to, it was to an empty room. Where was he? he wondered and tried to sit up. Whoa, too fast. He laid back down. Where was Chloe? He stopped shuffling about and began to focus on his super-sensitive hearing, filtering through Bart and A.C.'s fighting and Victor's phone conversation with his girlfriend until he heard her. Or them. Chloe was talking with Oliver.

"Did he wake up?" Oliver asked.

"Momentarily. Funny. I had a bad case of déjà vu. He was speaking to Lana in his sleep," Chloe responded.

Clark was stunned.

"Lana.. as in Luthor?"

"Yeah," she replied, "Long story."

So, Chloe thought he was telling Lana he loved her. This was ridiculous! How many times did he have to tell her that he loved _her_? She had to know that all these times he tried to tell her weren't a coincidence. He was so caught up in frustration that he'd lost pieces of the conversation, but then he heard Chloe say, "I've never seen him this sick."

"He's going to make it, Sidekick," Oliver assured her. Sidekick? "Don't worry. Clark will come back to you."

Clark didn't know what to make of Oliver's comment. Did he mean something else by that? Did Oliver know that Clark was in love with Chloe? And why was he calling her Sidekick? Was there something going on between them? He couldn't help it. He had to know, so he kept listening.

* * *

"Don't worry. Clark will come back to you." That's what Chloe got for expressing distress over Clark's physical state.

Wow. Did Oliver like to lay on the ambiguity or what? "That isn't what this is about," she argued, resenting how he'd turned her concern for her best friend into something else.

"Really?" he asked, sarcastically, "You know, one of these days you're going to have to explain exactly what Clark is and what he isn't to you."

Why did people always want to know? Chloe wondered, but came up with nothing. "Clark and I have been best friends since middle school. To say we've been through a lot together would be an oversimplification."

"I understand that," Oliver said, his jaw straining to still appear pleasant, "but is there something more?"

She couldn't believe it. "What?"

"Or rather," he amended immediately, "do you _want_ something more?"

"Why are you asking? Why is my relationship with Clark in any way an interest to you?"

Instantaneously, she regretted asking. When she looked at Oliver, his eyes were on hers. They were on fire. "You know why."

And she couldn't deny it. She did know why. A week ago, the two of them had been pulling an all-nighter in his loft to locate the facility Bart had attempted a recon at. He was trying to be funny, she was trying not to laugh. When they figured out where the facility was, they were damn near delirious from sleep-deprivation and.. he kissed her. She was completely caught off guard, but when the shock wore off, she'd kissed him back.

When he dropped her off at the Talon, she tried to forget the kiss, chalk it up to a long night and an altogether weary week. But the next day, he told her a lovelier version of, "I _meant_ to kiss you. I think we should go on a date." She didn't know how to answer that. The only thing she could think of was holy crap, Oliver Queen wanted to kiss her. Her, Chloe Sullivan! That's when she reexamined what he'd said. Oliver Queen wanted to go on a date with her. Why didn't that make any sense? Maybe because he was handsome, rich, hilarious, and fought on the good side. When she took him into consideration and then took herself into consideration, she couldn't understand. She found herself seriously lacking in the same departments he was stocked full of. Depressed by the thought, she told him she'd get back to him on that.

Well, Oliver was standing there, in front of her, wanting to know what her answer was. And she didn't have one for him. At least, she didn't have one he would like.

It was like he was reading her every thought. He stepped closer, his face forcing a serious face because he knew. He knew that the closer he got to her, the closer she came to throwing all caution to the wind and lunging into his arms. "Have you even been thinking about it?" he asked, though he acted like he already knew the answer.

"Yeah," she simply said, refusing to back away. She sighed. This was going to be hard. What were those lines she rehearsed again? "Believe me, you're a great guy, Oliver. I--I just.."

Oliver was purely serious then. Scratch that. He was serious, but he was also.. not disappointed, but sad. "You, what? You think I'm too different? Too busy? Too overwhelming? Too dangerous?"

"No!" she exclaimed, wishing he wouldn't make this harder. Why was he searching within himself for a reason why? There was nothing wrong with him.

"Then what?" he asked, his face showing genuine emotion. This was something no one else saw. "Chloe, you're going to have to give me more than just the "great guy" line. I'm putting myself out here--"

"I know, and I don't get it," she interrupted. She didn't know how else to put it, so she asked, "What do you see in me?"

To her surprise, Oliver smiled. It was a bitter smile, one that could easily have passed for a grimace.

"I'm serious," she said, "You have options. You've met lots of women who top Angelina Jolie."

"I'm not interested in other women," he said vehemently.

"But why me?"

Oliver looked confused and frustrated. "Why? Because you're smart, not just beautiful. You're witty, not just funny." He paused, waiting for her to argue she assumed, but she just stood there, mouth open in shock. He went on. "You're resourceful, you can hack your way into almost anything on the computer, you don't get fazed by my lifestyle--need I go on?"

"If you've got more, have at it." Chloe watched Oliver's face morph with more frustration, then placed a hand on his arm. "I was joking. Oliver, you don't have to settle for the first person you meet--"

The angry look he gave her cut her short. "I wouldn't refer to you as settling. More like striking gold."

Chloe smiled despite the heat fusing her cheeks. "You don't need any more money."

"Yeah," Oliver agreed, "but I could always use a you." He took the hand that was on his arm and held it between both of his. "Give me a chance, Sidekick. If I can't prove that we could be good together, then I'll stop trying. Everything can go back to the way it was."

When he put it like that.. Chloe bit her lip, trying to find a reason to still say no. When she couldn't think of one, she sighed, her face stern. "Okay. But would you mind keeping this to yourself? The last thing I want is for Bart to find out--"

"Find what out?" asked a voice from the doorway.

Chloe turned and her jaw dropped for the second time. "Clark, you're awake!" Without thinking about it, she ran into his arms.

* * *

"Clark, you're awake!"

Even though Chloe was in his arms, he felt so empty inside. Chloe'd just said she would give Oliver a chance to win her heart over. Devastating, to say the least. He felt like there was this sorrowful pain building in his chest that was growing just by looking at her and looking at Oliver. The guy didn't even bother hiding his irritation over Chloe hugging him, her best friend. Just for that, Clark held on a little longer. As if that could keep her with him always.

"Yeah," he said, ignoring the pain that wasn't caused by the Kryptonite, "How long was I out?"

"A few hours," Chloe asked, guiding him to the couch. He saw her give Oliver a silent look and with that, he disappeared. "Enough for me to get worried."

"What happened?" Clark asked. "Where's Bart?"

"Bart is somewhere in Mexico right now, getting himself three family orders of authentic burritos. That enormous exercise machine Lex caged him in wore him out." And so she began to explain the rest. Apparently, while Bart was literally running for his life, Clark had trapped himself in a room full of liquid Kryptonite. When Victor, A.C., and Oliver arrived on the scene, they split up. A.C. took the guards down and started to strategically place bombs within the facility. Victor found Bart, hooked himself up to the computer monitoring Bart's speed and deprogrammed it. Together, they found the computer with all of Lex's intel and downloaded it into Victor's memory.

Oliver was the one who found Clark. A jar of Kryptonite had toppled over and was broken--something that resulted from an attempt Clark made half-conscious to get out of there by grabbing onto a shelf. Its contents were surrounding him, keeping him weak. Oliver carefully extracted Clark from the room and then wiped his hand, where the liquid had made contact.

While Clark was digesting that news, Oliver returned, carrying a glass of water for him and a cup of coffee for Chloe. That was what the silent look earlier was about. Clark couldn't wrap his mind around it. They hadn't been working together for very long, and they had only met a couple of months back. So why was Chloe so comfortable around him? Why could she ask him with a look for water? Why did Oliver know to get her a cup of coffee, too?

Why did Clark feel like the outsider now?

Everything felt awkward with the three of them, as if the time was split between Oliver feeling like a third wheel and him feeling like he was ruining an intimate moment between them. Finally, he couldn't stand it. They were in Oliver's loft, his home. Clark was not going to sit around and wait to be kicked out. "I'd better get going," he said. "Thanks, to both of you, for taking care of me."

"None needed," Oliver said for them both.

Clark wanted to punch something. Did Oliver always have to be, as Chloe termed it, so suave? Maybe that's why the blonde had gotten to Chloe and not him..

"Chloe, I'll see you.." Clark stopped. He was going to say "I'll see you tomorrow", but that was starting to feel very unlikely. In fact, he didn't know when he would see her next, so as strange as it was, he left it like that and left.

Once he was in the elevator, he heard Oliver say, "That was awkward."

"You're telling me," Chloe turned around and said. "I felt like I was stuck in an episode of Frasier."

"Frasier?" Oliver asked, followed by a laugh.

"Shut up." That was said without malice.

"Seriously, though," Oliver moved on, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"About what?"

Oliver heaved a sigh. "Sometimes I wonder if you're being intentionally obtuse. I'm talking about us, Sidekick."

"You expected me to tell Clark that we may or may not be pursuing an interest in each other that could potentially lead to nothing but the friendship that currently exists?"

"Well. Yeah."

"This is going to sound awful, but I didn't think it was necessary."

Clark smiled and heard Oliver say, "Ouch."

There were a few more sentences filled with angry words, but in Clark's dismal mood, it sounded like music.

* * *

Clark couldn't hold it in, that need to know what happened after he left. Chloe didn't mention anything about Oliver the night before when he was there, so today he would have to drag the truth out of her. That was something he hadn't had to do in a long time. That alone put him in a state of despair.

He went to the Talon, determined to catch her before she took off to the Daily Planet. Hard to believe that once upon a time, he was worried about her spending all of her time there. Now, she was always at Queen Tower.

Of course, he was the only one who noticed _and_ was upset. Lois had been singing praise for "Team Oliver" from the beginning, not knowing how Chloe caught the eye of the millionaire. Clark bet that Lois assured Chloe that it was okay to come home late or not at all--wink, wink.

When Chloe came down from the apartment, he waved her over and proceeded to engage in conversation. It started normally enough, loaded with a few funny comments and random ideas. When he figured it was an okay moment to mention it, he said, "Chloe, what's going on between you and Oliver?"

Her smile changed fractionally. "What do you mean?" she asked, obviously pretending to be oblivious.

"Well, last night, I thought I interrupted something.." He trailed, expecting her to pick up.

"Oh that? We were just trying to keep each other up to speed with all that was happening."

"Yeah, but after I left, I heard you two sort of.. arguing."

Chloe made that "Clark strikes again" face. "I'm surprised that I'm surprised." She began to walk to the order counter, him following her. "Clark, I didn't figure you for an eavesdropper when danger isn't involved--"

"I do it when I see my best friend upset, especially when Oliver Queen is in the room."

Chloe reeled back. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just.. weren't you going to explain?"

"Explain what? You're not the only one who gets to be friends and make nice with Oliver." As in, just because she lacked superhuman powers didn't mean she couldn't befriend, or date, someone like Oliver.

"Nice is exactly the opposite of what I heard last night." He looked at her, surprised that she had divulged practically nothing so far. Usually Chloe never held anything back from him. For that long, anyway. "Is there something I should know?"

"What, you didn't get that from last night?" she asked sarcastically. A moment later, her face softened with regret. She held up a hand. "Ugh, truce. I do not want to fight with somebody else."

"So you two were fighting."

"Yes, and over something that didn't require a fight." She paused to place her order with the barista and pay for her drink. When she turned back to Clark, a foreign expression was written on her face. "Clark, have you ever.. had feelings for someone that you thought of in so many different ways?"

He looked straight into her eyes. "Yes."

She didn't seem to notice. Too immursed in her own thoughts. "Then you understand. I thought I just admired him, you know, what he stood for, the choices he's made--"

"Chloe," Clark interrupted, his breathing starting to shorten as he realized what she was trying to say. Apparently the fight he left them with last night wasn't as brutal as he thought. "Are you dating Oliver?"

Chloe scoffed. "I generally don't date guys that are cuter than me." That was almost successful in putting a smile on his face, but then she added, "He likes me, Clark. Me. I still don't grasp why, but he does."

Clark forced himself to swallow his pride and try to be there for his best friend. She was doing what he wanted her to do, confide in him. He couldn't alienate her now--no pun intended--by being unsupportive. "What else is bothering you?"

Chloe bit her lip. A classic nervous reaction. "I don't know.. Do you think.. this is all moving way too fast?"

Relief spread throughout him like wildfire. Only then did he realize how cold he'd been inside. "A little. What do you think?"

She nodded. "I think so. But you know, love supposedly comes in all shapes, forms, and time capacities. Am I a good judge of what it should be like?"

Clark tried to listen to his conscience. Too bad it sounded an awful lot like Chloe. He needed to be there for her, help her make choices based on what was good for her, not what benefited him. And though it hurt to say it, he did anyway. "I think that you should listen to what your gut feeling tells you. If you think there's a chance that you might be happy with Oliver, go for it."

A look came across her face, her eyes brightening with his advice.

It wasn't too late. He could still tell her that Oliver wasn't the only one who wanted a chance to be with her. Clark clamped that part of himself down and forced his jaw to unlock as he finished. "There's nothing to lose unless you don't try."

* * *

( The seventh and eighth attempts will be posted tomorrow; one short, one long.. )


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Sending thank-you's out to Luna Kompton, Sam, dispatcher652, and Sculllyga for leaving reviews. This was one of the hardest chapters to write. You guys helped me keep writing it.

Lyrics, readers, please listen to the lyrics in these songs:

I Shall Believe - Sheryl Crow  
Can You Stand the Rain - Boyz II Men  
Is This Love - Bob Marley  
Still Holding Out For You - SHeDAISY  
In Another Life - The Veronicas

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

* * *

**The Seventh Time****.**

* * *

_Chloe,_

_I've been keeping something from you I've buried inside, but whenever I try to tell you, something comes up or I can't find a way to make you understand. So I'm hoping that these words can be as clear to you as the truth that's in my heart._

_The truth is that I love you. I've loved you for a while now. It's not something that just hit me or happened because I thought the world was going to end. What I felt and continue to feel for you grew with every smile and every moment shared with you. What you've come to mean to me is immeasurable, it goes far beyond friendship. I finally understand that you are my essential person._

_I know that you're with someone who deserves you much more than me, but I cannot continue to face you without letting you know how I feel. We've had feelings for each other before, and I'm praying that somewhere, deep down, you still have feelings for me because I need you. I just need you._

_--Clark_

* * *

Clark folded and unfolded the letter, trying to find typos or a way to correct something so that it made sense. But it didn't make sense. No matter what he'd tried to do, he couldn't force himself to get over Chloe.

Seven months had passed since Oliver first told Chloe he wanted to explore a relationship with her. She'd given him a chance, and then a few more chances, followed by a green light for a full-blown relationship. Clark was with her the entire time, being her confidante. It was hard--unbearable usually--because even though she would try to keep some things from him, he wanted to know. He wanted to make sure that Oliver was treating her right.

And when he wasn't with her, and he wasn't keeping himself busy somehow, he was working on this letter, trying to perfect each sentence. The message had to be perfect. It was for Chloe. He didn't know if he'd ever actually give it to her when he was done, but he figured since it had taken him a month to write the first two sentences, he would most likely never finish it.

Somehow, there he was, reading the last sentence over and over again. "I just need you." It was finished. He didn't think it would happen.

Wasn't there supposed to be some closure now that he'd gotten his feelings on paper? Wasn't he supposed to feel at peace?

No.

While he was pouring his thoughts, his emotions into a faded piece of paper, erasing and editing, Chloe was building a strong foundation for a long relationship with Oliver. She was smiling, laughing more often without him. She was leaning on someone else's shoulder more often. She was confiding a little bit more without him.

No, it wasn't supposed to be this way.

That's why it didn't make sense. It didn't make sense for him to get over this on his own. Chloe needed to read this. She needed to know.

A long time ago, he wasn't ready for the kind of feelings he had for her. He had no idea they could become this strong. Now, he only regretted that he wasn't able to tell her sooner.

It would be the scariest thing he planned to do, but he would do it. It was the only way to truly get his feelings off his chest.

In a second he was standing outside the Talon, peering in through the window. The place was closed. The chairs were placed upside down on the bussed tables. The counters were wiped down and the food was put away. The light illuminating the stairs was on. That's when he saw Oliver emerge from the back. He was dressed in dark khaki slacks and a white button-up shirt. Pretty casual once his mahogany shoes were taken into account. He was also holding a white flower that was shaped similar to a star. For a second, Oliver's eyes were flitting back and forth in a nervous manner. Then he looked up and this look came over his face, like nothing mattered but what he was looking at. Clark followed his gaze to the vision at the center of the stairs.

Chloe was wearing a sage green eyelet tube dress under a white cardigan. She wore bronze-colored heels that shimmered with every step she took down the stairs. When she got near to the bottom, Clark could see part of her face. With her hair set down in loose waves framing her face, she was beautiful. No wonder Oliver looked like he'd been touched by an angel.

Clark's stomach lurched. What he wouldn't give to be Oliver. On a normal day, Clark would not be jealous of Oliver's money, clothes or social standing. That night, Oliver possessed the one thing he longed for.

When Chloe was a little higher than eye-level with him on the stairs, Oliver said something that made her stop. Clark leaned forward, letting his super-hearing catch on to their conversation.

"..You're beautiful. I want to look up to you," Oliver said.

From just one side of her face Clark could see her smirk. "For once."

Oliver smiled, but didn't say anything as he handed Chloe the flower. Chloe took it graciously and looked at it lovingly. "Is this a Lady Tulip?" she asked, genuinely curious.

The millionaire nodded, though his smile had a grim tone to it. Clark noticed it immediately; Oliver was not acting like himself. He wasn't the only who picked up on that. "Okay Charlie Chaplain, mind telling me what's going on--" Chloe interrupted herself with a gasp.

Clark tried to see but he didn't understand what was going on. Was Chloe hurt? It occurred to him that he should use his X-ray vision, so he did. As he scanned her, he didn't see anything wrong, but then he caught it.

It was in the flower. Something flashy.

Something caught in Clark's throat and his entire body clenched in pain.

* * *

"Is this a Lady Tulip?" Chloe asked, only to get a head nod. She tried to not to appear confused, but what was going on with Oliver? She had no idea why he wasn't saying anything. Usually, he wouldn't be able to control himself and spill exactly where they were going. That was the Oliver she'd grown to love.

Yes, she could actually admit it. She loved Oliver Queen. Not just because he took her to a local burger joint on their first date--he told her he wanted to "get the eating part over with" so they could walk around downtown and talk--or because he let her choose where to go on their second date. He was patient with her, let her decide if she wanted more than just to hold hands, kiss, or call the night short. He tried to learn her limits, her pet peeves and the things that made her cry. Moreover, he made it a point to listen as well as share. Chloe had gotten so used to dealing with problems on her own that she didn't realize how much she needed that extra support until Oliver. Well, not true, she had Clark, but Clark had so many other important things to deal with, it didn't seem fair to rely on him.

With Oliver, she felt like she could let go of some of the burdens she was carrying. He made her feel.. light. Like she wasn't drowning in all the happenings around her.

Not only did she owe him for that, but she owed him for sticking around. He could've gone back to Star City at any time because of his work, but he decided to move to Metropolis and take care of his inherited business, as well as League business, here instead. Since he couldn't stop trying to save people, he accepted the title Green Arrow--an invention Lois came up with on her own--and became another one of Metropolis's infamous vigilantes.

He did it all for her.

That was why when his smile seemed strained, she couldn't leave it alone. "Okay Charlie Chaplain, mind telling me what's going on--"

She didn't know what happened to the rest of her thoughts; her breath was knocked out of her by the treasure he helped her uncover inside the tulip he'd given her.

It was a ring. A marquise-shaped diamond no more than three-fourths of a carat was mounted on a thin gold band. It wasn't gaudy. It wasn't a statement. It was a symbol. What it meant was so important, she was too scared to touch it.

Oliver picked it out of the flower for her, holding it up. He met her gaze, completely stoic. "Sidekick, from the moment we met, I knew I wanted to be with you."

When he paused, she interjected, "Not to ruin the moment, but when we met online, when you orchestrated that run-in at The Emerald, or when you saved me as Green Arrow?"

He wasn't prepared for that question. "Well, when you put it like that, "the moment we met" does sound too cliché."

She laughed--a little of it was out of nervousness--but she waited for the answer.

"I guess when I asked you to go to The Emerald," he finally stated. "I was curious about you before, but when I saw you and you didn't bother to even look at me, I knew it was you. It had to be you. You weren't trying to hit on me and after I'd told you who I was, you weren't trying to impress me. But I was impressed. No matter what I threw at you, before and after you knew who I was, you were hellbent on showing me that I couldn't get to you that easily.. Please say something before I lose my mind."

"I.. Oliver.." Chloe was trying hard not to be overcome with the thoughts and emotions that were running through her and he wanted her to say something coherent? "This is so.. sudden."

He arched a skeptical brow. "Is it? We've been together for a while now."

"Seven months."

He kind of winced. "It sounds short, but it's been enough time for us to get to know one another." When she remained silent, he said, "I know how lame it sounds. But think about it. We've worked with each other for a year. You accept my life; you're even a part of that side of my life I have to keep from everyone else. You know everything there is about me and I.. I love you."

Chloe couldn't contain herself. She grabbed Oliver by the collar and kissed him. It felt so surreal, the happiness his speech, his proposal, and his warmth gave her. When she pulled away she smiled. "I love you, too."

"Do you love me enough to put this on and keep it there until the day we switch vows?" he asked, his eyes searching hers eagerly.

There was a very, very tiny part of her that hesitated, questioned whether or not she should think about it--or find Clark and ask him what he thought--first. But she dismissed the idea. Oliver was there, now, willing to marry her! "Yes," she said, slipping the object in question on, "I would love to don this ring for you, Oliver Queen."

Oliver scooped her up in a hug, his happiness renewing hers.

Just as he was about to set her down, a crash broke into the moment. Instinctively Oliver pulled her against him to protect her, but when nothing else happened, she peered over to the Talon's front entry. The glass doors were smashed in.

"What was that?" she asked.

"No idea," he replied, taking her hand and walking cautiously to the entrance.

By the time they reached the doors whatever that had been there was gone. "I'm going to call the Talon's security systems," Oliver said, taking his cell phone out and stepping back into the café.

"The number's posted on the bulletin board in the back," Chloe called back to him. She turned back to the scene, looking around. The place was deserted. No cars, no people on the streets. She turned to go back inside when she spotted it. A folded piece of paper underneath bits of shattered glass. She stepped over to it and carefully picked it up. Not knowing what to make of it she began to open it up.

"Chloe, can't find it!"

Chloe smiled. Oliver couldn't be left to his own devices. Guess that's why he needed a sidekick. She stuck the paper into the pocket of her cardigan. "Coming!"

* * *

( **A/N:** Now would be a good time to listen to the Charlotte Sometimes's song from Chapter Five, the Nine Days number from Chapter Six, or Sheryl Crow's song. )

"I would love to don this ring for you, Oliver Queen."

Of all the terrible things he'd faced, this was one that took his breath away. She said yes. Chloe said she would marry Oliver. She might as well have pierced Clark through the heart with a Kryptonite stake.

He staggered back as if she had, the sight of Oliver holding the woman he loved scalding his mind.

No.

Everything got blurry, and it wasn't until a hot tear rolled down his face that he realized he was crying.

No.

He couldn't think. No, he didn't want to think. Didn't want to process that he was going to lose his best friend.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching in an attack position. Then, just like that, he was pushing himself off the ground, the force of it catapulting him up in the air. He barely registered the sound of shattering glass as he went higher, higher. Soaring upward. He blew past the clouds, went a mile higher when gravity began to take its toll. This was the part Clark feared most. What he dreaded. The fall.

But then he thought of something much worse. Chloe taking Oliver Queen as her lawfully wedded husband.

The fear of falling dissipated. He raised his arms then flapped them to his sides, the impact pushing him horizontal as he blasted across the clouds, not against them.

And though he should've been proud of this moment, conquering gravity, he cried out in agony, not exhilaration.

No.

* * *

( Okay, I lied. The eighth attempt will be posted tomorrow.. )


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Sending thank-you's out to ali08, dispatcher652, Kairan1979, Sculllyga, LaLaShivers, ChlarkCandy, Luna Kompton, and LadyAlchemy for letting me know how I've been doing so far. Each chapter progressively gets harder and harder to write, but you've given me good motivation. Thank you!

My list of songs for this chapter:

Someday You Will Be Loved - Death Cab for Cutie  
Littlest Things - Lily Allen  
Autumn's Monologue - From Autumn to Ashes  
Give Me Novacaine - Green Day  
Don't Move (WGRD bootleg version) - Butch Walker

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

* * *

**The Eighth Time****.**

* * *

It felt like Clark had spent hours in the sky, but when he decided to come closer to earth, he flew past the clock atop Queen Tower and saw that he'd been up there for a mere twenty minutes. It was strange how time mattered less to him. The only certainty that existed was that he was going to lose Chloe.

He probably should have gone home, but now that his mother was gone to Washington, the house was empty. Quiet. He didn't want quiet. He needed to hear something more than the blood thundering in his ears. The flying had helped for a while, he just knew that blasting around aimlessly was not going to solve things.

Something shiny caught his eye. It was gold, spinning, and was multi-faceted. The rooftop it sat on housed lights that struck the object and made it glint. It was to that object that Clark decided to go.

He slowed over the roof, trying to think of how to land. That was going to be tricky. It was the tearing of his heart that got him to fly, so how was he going to lower himself without falling?

He concentrated, trying to picture the air as a sort of force he could bend to his will and his body as an empty vessel. Slowly, he pretended he was filling himself with weight, pressing down on the air. Slowly.. slowly. Just like that, his feet made gentle contact with the roof.

Clark took a few steps toward the edge, gazing out onto the city. Metropolis had its fair share of buildings, the lights from several rooms a random pattern that made each one unique. He could see shadows cast from those lights. Men, women and children. All those people living their lives, unburdened by the kinds of troubles he had to bear. Oh, the questions he had.

When did everything fall apart? When did Chloe stop wanting to be more than just friends? He knew that when she kissed him on Dark Thursday she still had feelings for him, hidden somewhere in the back of her mind. He felt it in her kiss, in her embrace. It was like unleashing a tumultuous wave that she'd grown accustomed to keeping at bay. Where did those feelings go? When did her heart close to him and open up to Oliver?

Clark's eyes flitted from spot to spot in time to his erratic thoughts. Didn't she know? She had to have known he wanted more with her. He wanted to spend his life with her. Listen to her witty comments, come home to her, fight justice with her. He wanted to stare into her eyes and see the same love shining back at him. He wanted to hold her for as long as he wanted, listen to her singing in the shower.. He longed for it all; a life with Chloe would constitute a life complete.

He heard the door to the roof open behind him.

"Smallville?"

Clark whirled around, registering Lois's face. She was probably more shocked to see him than he was her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, letting the door close behind her.

There were plenty of ways to explain that one, but having gone through what he had--the heartbreak and the flying--he was at a loss for words. "Lois. Um.."

"Let me guess," she said, attempting to read his face. "You were looking for a cute blonde with a knack for the weird. Also known as my cousin."

The thought of Chloe was the last thing he wanted brought up. The sadness was too great. When he thought of her, he was still thinking of the happiness he could hear in her voice as she said she would marry Oliver. Pain cut into him, and he swore he started to get a little frantic again.

Lois--whatever she saw--was disquieted by it. "Okay.. I'm going to take it that you don't want to talk. Or be in the general vicinity of anybody right now." Slowly, she started moving back for the door.

"It's okay," he said, even though everything wasn't.

She paused, waiting for him to change his mind. When he didn't, she took a few steps forward. "Do you want me to keep talking?" she asked, apparently unclear of how to deal with his mood.

He nodded. Sure. Maybe she could take his mind off of things.

"Well," she said, still walking toward him, "I really don't have much news to share.." She brightened as a thought hit her. "Except that nuptials are in the making."

Clark steeled himself from flinching, but he didn't want to hear any more. "Lois, don't tell me--"

"That's right," she continued, mistaking Clark's statement for captivated suspense, "my cous just called and informed me that she is definitely tying the knot to the ever-intriguing bachelor from Star City--"

"Lois."

"--and she asked me to be her maid of honor--"

"Lois!"

She reeled and gaped at his outburst. There was no hurt, only shock. Shock that someone like him, the normally mild-mannered farm boy, could raise his voice.

He didn't try to apologize for his outburst. He was a thin thread away from losing it again. He didn't want to know that Chloe'd called Lois in her excitement from the scene he'd almost prevented. Didn't want to know that she was so eager to already make plans. Asking the brunette to be her maid of honor less than an hour after she was engaged.. She couldn't wait to leave him in the dust!

He dared to look at Lois, waiting for a slap, a shoutfest, something. But Lois just looked at him, eyes wide. "You already knew," she stated. "You know, and you're not happy."

He wasn't strong enough to deny it. He was a bad liar, anyway. All he could do is look away.

Lois was persistent, as usual. "You're in love with my cousin."

Clark locked his jaw, feeling the muscles tighten. He took a calming breath, forced his mouth to move. "That doesn't matter," he gritted out, his voice raw from not saying anything when he had so much to say.

She crossed her arms. "What about Lana?"

He balled his hand into a fist. "What about Lana? I don't love her like that anymore. I got over her. I moved on. So did she--"

"She just left Lex."

Clark stilled at the news. "What?"

"Believe it or not," she pressed, "she finally opened her eyes to how warped the Luthor family is and filed for divorce. She's settling for ten million."

He could only blink at the news. Lana was free of Lex. "I'm happy for her," was all he said.

"Yeah, now you can be with the woman you've always loved."

He shook his head. "I'm happy for her," he repeated, "but I don't want to be with her."

Lois crossed her arms, skeptical. "Am I supposed to believe you aren't going to go after your high school sweetheart?"

He could've argued with her. Gotten angry, maybe hurled a few mean comments her way. He shrugged. "Believe what you want."

Silence blossomed for a whole minute.

"My cous," Lois said after quite some time, "is _so_ blind."

* * *

Clark was worried that after Lois had stumbled upon the revelation that he loved Chloe she would go to the blonde and tell her the truth verbatim. To his astonishment, Lois told him that it was his secret to keep or tell, and that she would ruin neither his relationship nor Oliver's with Chloe by telling a single soul. He didn't know if he would believe her, but then she showed him the reason she was at the roof of the Daily Planet that night--a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in her hand. "Old habits die hard," she'd said.

So Lois gave him dirt on herself in a demonstration of trust. She also left him with this: "There is no remedy for love but to love more. Don't give up, Clark." ( **A/N:** Quote is from Henry David Thoreau. )

Those words moved him. He'd flown to the Daily Planet in despair, on the brink of losing his sanity. There, because of Lois, he came to the most basic realization. It was not over. Not in the sense that he would mess with Chloe's happiness by sabotaging her relationship with Oliver. It wasn't about that.

No, it wasn't over just because Chloe was marrying another man. Clark knew that even after she became Oliver Queen's wife, he would still love her. He would still hang on her every word. He would still search for ways to ignite those fireworks in her eyes. He would still look forward to the next time he saw her. That was love.

So yes, he smiled for her when she announced that she was marrying Oliver Queen. He went out of his way to make sure her wedding plans wouldn't fall through. He remained her best friend and therefore remained in her life.

It was bittersweet, but he endured it all.

* * *

Chloe entered the barn, more nervous than she'd ever remembered being. She took a jittery breath and climbed the steps to the loft and saw her childhood friend staring out of the open window, looking into the sunset. Shelby was quietly perched next to him, his faithful friend. Clad in plaid and jeans, he was exactly the way she remembered him, and not. Over the past year, Clark had become this mature, old soul. She liked to think it was because of the wedding plans--her lengthy engagement had probably made him grasp that they were growing up fast. But, watching him like that, seeing his shoulders look heavy with an inconceivably unbearable albeit imaginary weight, she knew it was about something else.

She'd been spending as much time, if not more, with Clark ever since she and Oliver became engaged, and so she picked up on the long silences, the straight faces. Clark was distancing himself, his baby blues becoming more and more vacant as time moved along. Sometimes, when she was with him, she felt more alone than ever.

This was why it was so hard to come to him now. She didn't want to ask him what she came there to ask him and see that blank look. She wanted his smile to reach his eyes and his eyes to come alive. "There's my favorite intergalactic traveler," she said, smiling.

He turned, a small smile on his face. "This is a welcome surprise. I haven't seen you since.. this morning," he teased.

She felt her smile warm. Good. He was feeling all right. "Face it. You missed me." She walked over to the open window and gazed at the sight. Orange covered the horizon with a red lining. Heat waves turned the setting sun into a disappearing mirage. It was breathtaking. She turned to Clark and realized he was watching her. Waiting for her to explain why she was there. Blushing, she said, "Sorry. I forgot how beautiful this place was."

Clearing her throat, she went on. "Clark, I have something incredibly big to ask of you. As in, I'll understand if you say no--"

"Chloe," he interrupted. "What is it?"

She wanted to keep smiling, but her face faltered. "God, I can't ask.. Look, pretend I didn't even mention it," she said, walking away.

He was standing in front of her in a split second, blocking her way. He didn't have to say anything, just give her that look.

"I've been thinking about one last detail of this wedding. It's the most important one. The one where I walk down the aisle toward my husband-to-be. My dad's been out-of-state for years, my mom's been catatonic since.. To say I have abandonment issues would be an understatement." She took a breath and took a step toward the brunette and looked into his eyes. "I could easily walk down that aisle myself, but in all seriousness, I haven't been alone, walking through life by myself. I've always had you. For as long as I can recollect, you've been there. I kind of forgot for a while--I think we both took each other for granted at one point or another. But I want you to share this moment with me, too, like you've shared every other moment in my life."

Was it just her, or were his eyes thawing? That, in itself, gave her strength. "So I'm asking.. Walk me down the aisle?"

Clark sucked in a deep breath, and Chloe saw that his eyes were not only thawing. They were pooling. "Clark?"

Then the impossible happened. A tear fell from his eye. Chloe's chest tightened. Why? Why was he crying? He went from being an emotional drone to tearing up in front of her. What wasn't he saying?

He finally looked like he was about to speak. Chloe locked her knees, fearing if they were even slightly bent she would back down, back away. No matter what he said, she had to know his answer.

"I love you, Chloe," he said, and her heart lurched at that. Then he added, "I can't walk you down the aisle. I can't give you away."

His tears were contagious. They leapt to her eyes, fuzzing around his face. "Why not?"

"I haven't been being honest with you--"

"It's okay," she said, sniffing back the tears. "I know you. I understand and accept that some things are meant to be kept secret."

More tears. No.. Was she making it worse? "Clark, what am I saying wrong?" she asked. She didn't understand.

Despite the trembling, not to mention the tears, he formed a smile. "No. You just reminded me.. of what our friendship means." He lifted a hand and removed a tear from her face she didn't even know she had shed. "I'll walk with you."

* * *

( The ninth attempt.. isn't it obvious? )


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I want to thank -StarlightRomance-, Sculllyga, ChlarkCandy, Kairan1979, dispatcher652, and Luna Kompton for the feedback. I'm glad that you are still continuing to read this story and giving me lots of angles to think about. Thanks!

ChlarkCandy, a very talented author, has brought up a good point. If some of you are wondering why Chloe seems like she is the one allowing the distance between her and Clark to grow, it is because whether she acknowledges it or not, she knows that whatever's been bothering Clark has something to do with her. She is very perceptive, but since she's used to being best friend and sidekick extraordinaire to his counterpart, a "problem" like his feelings for her--or any other problem he has involving her--is unchartered territory. Therefore, she leaves it alone, thinking that he will come to her if there is a problem. It's her way of avoiding something disastrous that could impact their friendship.

Ever since Chloe discovered Clark's secret, she's been learning how to censor herself. She used to expose meteor-infected people, but when she suspected that Clark might be one, she finally understood why Clark kept things from her. That understanding factors in to why she doesn't press him for answers. Moreover, she's at this stage where if he needs her, he'll come to her, but her life is so overwhelmingly busy--in this fic she's Watchtower, Clark's sidekick and a woman planning a wedding--she doesn't even see what's truly happening. That's just where she's at right now, but of course, that's something that will be dealt with toward the end of this story. Hope that that makes sense; I'm writing this at a time when I'm finally awake haha.

_IMPORTANT NOTE TO THAT_: I have been waiting until this chapter to fully explain why Chloe's been a little standoffish to Clark's feelings. Really, most of the failed attempts were misunderstandings on Chloe's part but, post-Chapter 4, there has been another huge reason why Chloe's been too distracted to see what Clark's been trying to tell her. Said reason will be revealed at the end of this chapter (and no, surprisingly, it is _not_ Oliver).

Wedding playlist!:

All I Need To Know - Emma Bunton  
Here, There and Everywhere - The Beatles  
Speechless - The Veronicas  
To Be Loved - Joan as Policewoman  
Do You Remember - Jack Johnson

Clark's personal soundtrack:

Love Hurts - Joan Jett and the Blackhearts  
Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy  
Haunt You Every Day - Weezer

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

* * *

**The Ninth Time****.**

* * *

Chloe turned her computer monitor off and started stacking her files. She'd had a long day, and the Justice League was planning a preemptive strike on another one of Lex's facilities later tonight. Five days before the wedding, Oliver _would_ have to put him and his groomsmen in danger. They were flying to Central America as she packed up and were going to report in as soon as they were situated. She glanced down at her engagement ring, thinking of her fiancé. She was going to have to be Watchtower tonight.

"Chloe Sullivan, soon-to-be Queen."

She looked up into the face of one of the biggest threats to Clark and the rest of humanity. "Lex."

"Funny how I just read about your engagement in the papers," he said, tossing a copy of the current issue of the Daily Planet onto her desk. "You'd think that since I bought this place it wouldn't have been news to me."

Chloe glanced at the paper and then at him. "Well. Surprise."

"It truly is," he said, taking a few steps in her direction. Closing in on her. "Who knew that you would be living out your childhood fantasy.. with someone else. Clark must be hiding in a cave right now--oh wait. He's walking you down the aisle, right?"

Chloe chose not to be affected by his venomous words. "What are you doing here, Lex?"

He smiled. "Just wanted to offer some heartfelt commendations."

She lifted an arm in gesture of an invitation. "By all means.."

Lex moved in, not stopping until they were two feet away. "Congratulations. You're fired."

Chloe knew better than to reel in front of Lex. Most of the sarcastic, assanine things he said were said for shock value. She also knew that he was serious. He didn't come here to congratulate her on her engagement to Oliver, of all people. He _was_ firing her. She met his pale eyes. "If this has something to do with Lana--"

"It does," he interrupted, refusing to budge. "My ex-wife took off with my money. I know she's been in contact with you, but I also know you would never give me the information I need."

"Exacting your revenge on me," Chloe said, "It's pitiful, Lex." She gave him one long look before going back to placing her files into her bag.

She felt a hand grab her forearm right before she was forced to twist around. Lex's eyes were ablaze as he searched her face. "You have twenty-four hours to tell me where Lana is and keep your things on that desk."

Chloe breathed in deep. It would be so easy to go for his solar plexus, but she would not give in to his intimidation technique. His threats were meaningless. He had nothing unless she gave him what he wanted. This was his attempt to scare her into submission.

"Let go of her." Chloe and Lex both turned to the sound of Clark's authoritative voice.

She didn't know who was more stunned. Clark told her that no matter how twisted, how evil Lex got, he still considered him a friend. The tone of his voice and the look he was giving Lex--as if his heat vision was going to go off at any moment and disintegrate the Luthor into little particles--was far from friendly.

Lex came to his senses first, doing what he was told. Chloe stepped back, and grabbed her bag. "Thanks for the suggestions, but I won't be taking either," she said and walked into Clark's outstretched arm. "I'll be back for my personals."

As they walked away, Lex called out. "Hold on tight, Clark. It's not going to last."

They didn't look back.

* * *

Clark wanted to ignore Lex's last words, but he couldn't. Chloe, in his arms; it wasn't going to last. She was going to be married in a matter of days. He had no idea what he was going to do when it was official. He picked her up and sped to the Talon in silence.

The room was full of boxes. Chloe, packing her things for when she moved to Oliver's apartment. Lois was probably happy that she'd have the place to herself again. The boxes and Lex were overwhelming pictures. Chloe had been fired from the Daily Planet _and_ she was leaving the Talon. How strange would it be when he would have to go to Queen Tower to see her? He imagined having to go up the elevator every time. How annoying that would be.

Of course, he could always swoop onto the terrace, but that would require explaining to her that he knew how to fly..

As soon as he set her down, Chloe turned and pressed a hand on his chest, stopping him from any movement. "Just so you know," she said, still breathless from the travel, "What Lex said was wrong. You and I.. we're going to be in each other's lives for a while."

He wanted to smile, nod, agree with her, but what was the point? He doubted things could stay the same for long once she was married. "How do you know?" he asked. "How can you be so sure?"

She gave him a confused look. "Of all the things I've learned to question, our friendship isn't one of them." He must not have looked any more convinced because Chloe placed one hand on her hip and stared at him. The confusion was replaced with mild irritation. "Okay, out with it. I can't stand the passive aggression."

He bristled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do, because I'm talking about you." She set her bag down and stared at him. "Do you really think I haven't noticed? You're building a fortress around yourself and you're shutting me out in the process. What's going on inside of you, Clark?"

"I'm fine," he said, willing her to believe him.

She was undaunted. "That doesn't answer my question."

He had to take a second, really think about his answer. She wanted to know why he was pulling away. Why he felt the need to. "I'm preparing myself for the worst. That with all the things going on around us, we--our friendship--will not survive."

Her love, he could try to live without. Her, he couldn't.

She glanced down, her face downcast. "It's true. There have been more and more struggles, adventures, and clashes with death to deal with than ever before. But look at us. You and I are a much more complicated puzzle and yet, we fit into each other's lives perfectly." She approached him and held onto his arm. "No one is going to defragment us. I won't let it happen."

It would have taken an impenetrable heart to not be moved by that. One look at her solemn face, and he knew he didn't have such a heart.

Clark sighed. He'd had such a hard time dealing with Chloe's pending marriage. He'd felt many things. Betrayal. Regret. Anger. Sadness. Loneliness. Most of those feelings were irrational, but he'd felt them nonetheless. And yes, he kept them inside. What was he supposed to do? Confide in someone? It just so happened that the one person he wanted to talk to was the person he wanted to talk about. That deepened his feelings of loss and loneliness.

But to hear Chloe say that now, that she didn't want to lose him either, that made things bearable. Because even if they wound up falling apart in the future, he'd at least known that she didn't want it to happen.

* * *

Clark stretched his arms, feeling strange as his tuxedo jacket pulled at his body. He hadn't worn a suit in a while, but there again was a shining example of the things he would do for his best friend. He struggled with his collar for a little while longer then went upstairs. The wedding was going to take off in less than half an hour and Lois and Chloe were still cooped up in his parents' bedroom, getting her ready. Bart had already reported in that all of the guests had arrived at the local chapel a few minutes outside of Smallville--a location strategically picked so that they could weed select people out of coming. It was a small list, but since the Justice League were going to be there, that was a good thing.

A.C. had been sitting in the living room patiently. As Oliver's best man--another strategic move to rekindle the flames with Lois--he had to wait until his aisle companion was ready and willing to go. Ready, Lois was, but not willing. It would've taken a demonstration of Clark's abilities to drag her out of there.

Clark reached the door and knocked. "Are you two done yet?"

"No," Chloe said.

"Yes," Lois answered at the same time.

He could hear them arguing.

"Lois," Chloe hissed, "I'm not ready."

"Of course you are," came the reply, "You're gorgeous!"

Then he heard footsteps coming toward the door right before it was flung open by Lois, who was wearing a viridian-colored dress. "What do you think, Smallville?" she asked, referring to her cousin.

Chloe was standing by the window, the sun highlighting every blonde curl on her head. Her eyes sparkled; her face was perfection. Her dress had a sweetheart neckline and a sheer material that layered over the cut and wrapped around her neck. Her tiny waist was further emphasized by the gathered waistline. The skirt itself barely grazed the floor, allowing him to see fragments of her lacy heels. His eyes ran back up to her slightly flushed face, feeling a bit of heat in his own.

"Oh look," Lois said, "my phone's about to ring. I'll see you at the chapel, Chlo."

He made sure Lois and A.C. were out the door when he finally spoke. "Oliver's the luckiest man."

She smiled her thanks. "Speaking of luck, I'm missing something. The shoes are old, the dress is new, and my hairpins are blue. Do you think Lois will let me switch bouquets with her? Does that even constitute borrowing?"

Clark sped out to the barn, grabbed his yearbook from the desk in his loft, and returned in two seconds.

She arched her brow. "I don't think I want to carry that down the aisle."

He opened his yearbook and in the center was a pressed white flower. He walked over to her and let her hold it. While she was examining it, he said, "It's the corsage you pinned on me for the Spring Formal freshman year."

Her eyes flew to his in shock. "You saved this?"

Nodding, he took it from her hands and had her hold her bouquet out, placing the flower in the center. He smiled. There. At least a part of him would still be with her when he gave her away. "Don't forget," he said, his tone light, "I want it back when the ceremony is ov--"

His words were cut short when he lifted his gaze only to see her crying unabashedly. Clark had heard that women hated crying at weddings. Their eyes would get red and their makeup would be runny. He grabbed his backup handkerchief and dabbed at her face, which made her cry even harder. So he did the next best thing. He took her in his arms and held her until she could compose herself.

When she pulled away, she was still trying to breathe regularly. Smiling despite the tears, she said, "I'm the luckiest woman."

Her cell phone ringing broke into the moment. She went to check it. "Lois sent a text message," she announced, grabbing her small veil, "They want to start without me."

Clark went to her, picked her up in the familiar bridal style, and sped over to the side of the chapel so that nobody would see them appear as if by magic. They walked around to the front, but two steps prior to the door they paused. She turned to fix his tie and gave him her best smile. "Chloe," he said, hoping that no one would interrupt. "I love you."

He wanted to leave it at that, but this was her wedding day. He would stick to his promise, that he wouldn't get in the way. So he added, "And I've never been so proud."

He took the veil from her fingers and tucked it into her hair.

The rest was all a blur.

* * *

Clark stood in silence, watching people dancing and laughing. Though there weren't many in attendance, it felt like a party. The music was tasteful, bringing couples to the middle of the room. He supposed that's what they should be doing at a wedding reception. He didn't know. He wasn't gauging anybody else's happiness but Chloe's.

The service had been short. He walked her down the aisle, dropping jaws. When they reached the end, he flipped her veil over and kissed her on the forehead, then gave her hand to Oliver. The preacher read a biblical passage, invited them to exchange their vows, and pronounced them husband and wife. It was a wedding that suited her.

Once he'd gotten over the throbbing in his chest, he managed to look normal. Fine. All right. It helped that no one tried to talk to him--

He thought too soon as a determined Lois approached him. She grabbed and dragged him over to the dance floor. "Lois, what are you--"

"Shut up, Smallville," she instructed, taking his hand and bringing it to her waist. She moved into the reciprocal pose and glared. "I will not let you stand there, wilting against the wall. Now dance."

He didn't bother to deny her; they were already moving in time to the beginning of a Jack Johnson song. He thought they were going to stay practically in place, but Lois plowed through the crowd, not stopping until she crashed into the newlyweds.

"Oops," she said, sounding completely unrepentent. "Sorry, I got a little carried away."

Chloe laughed. "Glad you can admit it, Lois."

Lois beamed a cloud nine smile. "Hey," she said to Oliver, "could you spare me a dance? Smallville over here is breaking my toes."

Clark was going to respond with a very mature "Was not!" but when he saw Lois glare at him again from the corner of her eye, he stayed mute.

"Sure," Oliver said, holding his hand out to her.

Lois made a noncommital noise of gratitude and took off with him.

Clark turned to Chloe and extended his hand in the same manner. Chloe smiled and took it, and the two were off dancing in their own world. Clark wondered if she noticed how natural it was for them to be in each other's arms. Instead of asking her that, he asked, "How does it feel to be Mrs. Oliver Queen?"

The smile on her face widened. "I've decided to hyphenate," she announced, "Chloe Sullivan-Queen."

He supposed that didn't surprise him, since Chloe was an independent wild child who had made something of her own name. She didn't need to take Oliver's for that. "Try saying that three times fast."

Chloe laughed her tinkling-bells laugh, then sighed dramatically. "It's funny," she began. "A decade ago I dreamed that it would be you and I. You know, giving in to matrimony."

He looked at her, stunned. She had dreamt of marrying _him_ someday? Why didn't she tell him until now? Why did she wait until after she was someone else's wife?

Questions, oh questions, but what good would the answers be now? No, now was not the time to have a serious conversation with Chloe. Maybe in another life. For now, he had to maintain the feathery atmosphere. "Chloe Sullivan-Kent. Still a mouthful."

"No," she said, and he felt the hand on his shoulder squeeze fractionally. "You're the last survivor of a very rare kind. If I'd married you, I would've been Mrs. Clark Kent."

Clark opened his mouth, but what he could've said in response to that, he didn't know.

Suddenly a loud crash quickly followed by a scream interrupted the music and dance. Everyone froze and turned to see a man flying into the air until he smashed into a table, breaking plates and flutes of champagne. More screaming. And then Clark saw a single man step into the reception hall.

Milton Fine. He looked awful, and his eyes were on Chloe.

"Chloe!"

The social scene erupted into chaos as people scrambled out of his way to try and get some safety. Clark felt Chloe's hand start to tremble and stepped in front of her just as a piece of broken wood came flying at them. It smashed into him and split off, harming no one. No one bothered to look, anyway.

"Chloe!"

Fine kept walking toward them, throwing people out of his way. Clark didn't try to stop him, as it was the only way to draw him further into the hall. The space between Fine and the entrance finally allowed the guests to start evacuating.

"Chloe!" Clark could see Lois in his peripheral view. She'd been shouting for her cousin.

"Lois!" Chloe called out. Clark felt her try to make a run for it behind him, but he held her arm. "Don't move, Chloe," he warned softly, "It's too dangerous."

Chloe seemed to understand. "A.C., get her out of here!"

Clark couldn't afford to look away from Fine, but he heard Lois started to argue.

"Please," Chloe cried out, "Lois, go!"

The sound of heels pounding into the ground was Clark's assurance that A.C. was smuggling her out of there.

Victor jumped in front of Fine then, delivering blows that kept on narrowly missing his target. Fine got the upperhand when he grabbed Victor by the throat, raising him high into the air. "You," he said, "have a lot of information." Without further ado he released his tendrils on Victor, having a "taste" of the information stored in Victor's programming. The half-cyborg cried out, trying to escape the vicelike grip Fine had on him.

"Clark!" Chloe exclaimed.

Clark's jaw clenched, the urge to help Victor very strong. But he wouldn't leave Chloe. She was the most vulnerable of them all at the moment.

Before he could get the chance to do anything, Fine retracted his tendrils and launched Victor toward the entrance, knocking A.C. and Lois over. Clark winced. Being hit by another person who was part metal was sure to keep them out cold.

Fine gave Clark an amused look. "Aren't you going to fight me?"

"I know what you want," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not letting you touch her."

Just then, Clark saw Bart rush in the entrance, casting something in the air right before he rushed into Fine. He would've succeeded, had Fine not been able to move as fast as Clark and him. Instead of attacking him, Bart was caught in a headlock, twisting to get free. "You," Fine said, "have little information."

"And you're not getting any of it," Oliver, who'd emerged from the broken debris holding his bow with an arrow--the something Bart had thrown upon his arrival, said. He let the arrow go, sailing toward Fine.

Fine caught it with his free hand. "These human tricks," he stated, twirling the arrow around, "they do grow old." With that, he flung the arrow back in the direction it had come from, striking Oliver in the chest.

"OLIVER!" Chloe screamed.

Clark was struck with how pained she sounded, Oliver's name torn through her throat like a heart ripped out of its cage. He couldn't stop her that time. She ducked from his arm, running toward her husband with tears in her eyes.

Fine found his opening. He tossed Bart away like a rag doll, not caring that Bart hit the wall with enough force to crack through the drywall and into the foundation.

Clark saw him launching toward Chloe. He propelled forward, smacking into Fine right before he reached his best friend. They fell, but Clark got up faster. Grabbing his nemesis by the shirt, he crouched low and lifted off, skyborne. "You'd better hope it's not too late for Oliver, Fine," he ground out, heading as fast as he could for the Fortress of Solitude.

* * *

Chloe was shaking, holding Oliver close to her. She'd removed the arrow and replaced it with pressure to stop the bleeding. "It's not that bad," she kept saying, but he couldn't even hear her. He had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Lois, A.C., and Victor were still in a crumpled heap by the entrance. Bart was breathing but passed out. Clark had taken off into the sun with Milton Fine. She was the only one awake, standing in the remains of what had been a beautiful reception less than an hour ago.

Shock finally crept up her spine. This was her wedding day. Broken tables, glass and bodies encircled her.

Where was an ambulance, dammit?!

"Chloe!"

She heard glass crunching as Clark came closer, but she couldn't move. She couldn't look away from Oliver's face.

Clark knelt down in by Oliver on the opposite side of Chloe. "Where's Fine?" she asked.

"Taken care of," was all he disclosed. She felt his hand on her shoulder and instantly, she was able to lift her gaze to him. "How bad is it?" he asked.

"It's.. it's.." Next thing she knew, she was grabbing Clark's hand. "Clark," she said, knowing how desperate she sounded, "No matter what happens, don't take me to the hospital." She knew she should've just asked him to take them to the hospital, but she didn't think she could stand waiting. Not when she could do something about it. Not when she could fix this.

She saw Clark's face twist up. "Chloe, what are you talking about? What--"

"Please," she interrupted, feeling time slipping away, "No hospitals."

As soon as his eyes said "okay", she turned back to Oliver.

She could fix this.

* * *

He could see the anguish in her eyes. He could also see a sense of resolution.

She placed her hand a few inches over Oliver's wound. Then, the impossible happened.

A bright light filled the room. It was coming from Chloe's hand. It spread, surrounding her in a bubble so bright Clark could no longer see her even though she was less than two feet away. He switch to x-ray vision, but he couldn't see her, only Oliver's body.

"Chloe!" he shouted. "Chloe!"

The light snapped like a rubber band. Clark had to blink a few times to regain his bearings. When he did, Oliver was breathing normally, and the bleeding had stopped. More, his injury was actually gone. Completely, without a scar.

And Chloe was lying next to him, as still as a corpse.

* * *

( The tenth attempt will probably not be as good. )


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Big thank-you's to Sculllyga, dispatcher652, ChlarkCandy, Kairan1979, Luna Kompton, and LadyAlchemy for the feedback on the last chapter. You call caught on to every detail, which put a smile on my face (so did the Fine-Bart comment.. I wrote that when I was tired and half-delirious, and when I scrolled back to review everything I couldn't stop laughing when I got to that).

The one song I can only think of:

He Can Only Hold Her - Amy Winehouse

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

* * *

**The Tenth Time****.**

* * *

There was death and destruction everywhere. The ground was black ice that stretched out for miles and was littered with dusty debris. No plants, no buildings. No colors. And every few meters a foot-long crater filled with blood and bones decorated the earth. Beyond the horizon was a thick blanket of darkness. Nowhere to go.

It was the scene of a broken dream; a cold, desolate world, and she was standing in it. She shivered, crossing her arms and looking out into the vast emptiness, but who she was looking for, she couldn't recall.

Strange. She couldn't picture anyone in her head. It was like her mind had been emptied of all important people, things, and events. She couldn't get herself to feel like she was missing something though her conscience was telling her she should. How awful that she could be so detached, but then, maybe that was a good thing. If she was still holding on to anyone or thing in the living realm, she wouldn't be able to stand the devastation.

A gust of wind hit her at the nape of her neck. Instead of turning away, she turned in the direction of the breeze. A presence was making itself known.

The wind gathered into a flurry, quickly evolving into a whirlwind. When she blinked, the wind had disappeared and left a man in its wake. Suddenly, a flash of faces and names..

It had always been Oliver. Now it was Clark. This couldn't be good.

She looked him over as he walked toward her. Same shoes, jeans, plaid shirt. But his hair didn't move at all as he walked, and he didn't blink. His eyes struck her as different, too. Pale, opalescent. All-knowing. He stopped four feet short of her, and she realized his eyes were glowing.

"Is this the last time?" she asked, her voice low even to her ears.

He shook his head slowly. "I don't know why I'm here."

She furrowed her brow. "I'm dead, Clark."

"What?" he asked, and his face held some sincere shock. "Am I dead, too?"

"No," she said, "you're just here with me, in my mind."

"I don't understand," came the response. "What are we doing here?"

Now she was even more confused. Why didn't Clark know what he was there for? Whenever Oliver appeared to her, he would tell her she needed to wake up, that she still had plenty of things left to do in the living realm. He'd always known what he came to convince Chloe of. Why didn't Clark? "Why am I seeing you now?" she asked aloud, more to herself than to him.

Suddenly, it hit her.

She was dead.

She was going to stay dead.

Clark was there because she was going to stay there.

She slowly backed away, not knowing what to expect. Clark could be pretending to be unaware of what was going on and then turn on her in the blink of an eye. And who knew what would happen after that? She could be swallowed into the darkness.

She should've been looking at where she was going, because her heel sunk into a liquid-filled crater. Her foot squished against the liquid and she cried out, her balance slipping.

She almost fell onto the ice but then two arms were wrapping around her, holding and lifting her up. Clark. His hand was gentle against her neck as he cradled her head. Maintaining eye contact with her, he said, "You don't have to be afraid of me."

When he set her upright, she shook her head, trying to catch her breath. "I thought you'd come to take me to the other side."

He could've been amused. "Why?"

"Because," she answered, "when I die.. Wherever I go, I want you to be with me."

She should've felt embarrassed. What she'd said could be misconstrued in various ways. But then, she meant it exactly the way she said it. If she was going to be facing the afterlife forever and ever amen, she wanted to spend it with the only person she couldn't handle ever being without.

She expected Clark to be shocked and slightly disgusted, but he wasn't. He looked.. happy? Hopeful? "Chloe," he uttered. He lowered his head, then glanced back up at her. "What about Oliver?"

"What about Oliver?" She shrugged. "Clark, you're in every part of my life. What we have.. it's something I want to take with me even in death."

Definitely hope in his eyes. He raised his hand, cupping it and moving toward her face. But midair, he stopped himself. He turned his back on her and in that moment, he started to appear more like the real Clark, with a heavy burden on his shoulders. "Seems so clear here, huh?" he asked, then turned around and set his pale eyes on her. "Who you really love."

She didn't deny it. No use, really, not with his eyes the way they were. "I love you both."

"You love me more."

Chloe was stunned. This Clark, this whole experience, it was nothing like she had encountered before in this state. He was actually arguing with her, like as if he had his own opinion in this realm. And the way he said that, he sounded so sure. Like there was no question of her loving Oliver as much as she loved him.

Clark got closer and placed his arm around her waist, bringing her flush against him. This time, his hand caressed her face.

She didn't think it was possible, but her skin broke out in goosebumps. "I.." What was she trying to say?

He leaned over, his eyes searing her to her soul.

"I'm married," she blurted like a reflex.

He smiled. "Not here." And then he was pressing his lips against her.

Dying.

She'd do it again in a second.

* * *

When Chloe came to, her lungs were completely compressed. She gasped, and the air rushing in made her head spin for a second. She clutched at her head, trying to force her mind to concentrate, get her bearings.

"Chloe.." Clark was right at her side, helping her sit up.

Her chest throbbed, but she ignored it. The pain was only an echo of the injury she'd absorbed. As she adjusted she realized she was laying on the couch in Clark's barn loft, still in her wedding dress. It was covered in dried blood. She checked her hands; they were clean. Clark must have cleaned them while she was.. out. Clark..

She looked up at her best friend, who looked like his calm facade was ready to crack. Memories came back to her, one in particular. "You can fly."

The expression he gave her was one that made her feel like she'd brought up the most inane fact to light. "You can self-resurrect," he countered, his face stoic.

When he said it like that, she felt guilty. Had it not been for Fine crashing the wedding reception, she would've kept this a secret. Speaking of the wedding.. "Oliver.."

"Okay," he reassured her, but he refused to be sidetracked like her. "Chloe, I thought you were dead."

There was no easy way to say it. "I was." She shifted uncomfortably. "For how long?"

"Thirteen hours."

She saw the conflict written on his face. Disbelief that she could actually do it, rise from the dead, versus the proof. She had come back to life. "This is going to be difficult to internalize, but I have the power to heal people. I discovered it the day after I almost got mugged by Lex's henchmen when I was passing by the children's ward. I saw a girl who was in an armcast, and I was so overwhelmed by her sadness, it just happened right then and there."

He took it silently.

That bothered Chloe. Her gut was telling her that he wasn't saying anything because he was somehow disappointed in her for not trusting him enough. Which was complete bull. It wasn't like she wanted to keep it from him forever. What she didn't want was for him to feel responsible for her condition.

She sighed. "Clark, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But this power is a direct result of my being constantly exposed to Kryptonite all these years."

His eyebrows arched, shocked and anguished at the same time. "You mean--"

"I tried to find a cure, but it turns out the concentration of meteor rock surrounding my heart is so high, it's inoperable and irreversable by all other means."

He grimaced, guilt and sadness apparent. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked. "I've come to terms with this. I've accepted this power as a gift." Which was easier said that done. When she realized that she was infected by the alien meteor rocks, everything she'd done in her past to compromise the "meteor freaks" came back to haunt her. She'd become the weird. So yeah, it had taken her a long time to accept that she couldn't change her condition, but what she learned in practicing her power was something she didn't regret.

Her friend was still brooding. "I love you, Chloe, and I don't want to lose you," he said vehemently. "Promise me you won't do that again, use your powers."

"I don't die every single time, Clark. Only when the injury is fatal."

He considered that statement. "That could be why Fine interrupted the reception in order to get to you," he concluded. "He wanted to know more about how you could do that."

"By the way," Chloe said, knowing she was getting off-topic, "did anyone.. see? You know, me looking like a corpse."

"No. As soon as Oliver began to stir I took you here."

She gulped, her throat dry. "Thank you." He didn't have to do that, but he did. Sometimes she wondered who made who do backflips more.

"I think you should tell Oliver," Clark said suddenly.

She was flabbergasted by the idea. "What--why?"

"You two are married now, and you just saved his life. I think he deserves to know the truth." To emphasize, he made a stern face.

"And I'll tell him," she conceded, "Someday. But for now, I think the first task at hand for us is staying alive. It would be nice to be Mrs. Sullivan-Queen for more than twenty-four hours."

He smiled, but didn't comment. Instead, he asked, "What was it like when you were dead? Do you remember anything?"

She pulled back, trying to think of what she'd gone through for the thirteen hours he said she was gone. Nothing. "No."

* * *

( If that's what you're thinking, yes, Chloe didn't remember what happened in the world of the nonliving. It says she recalls Oliver visiting her, but those memories are stored there whenever she is in that state and do not come back with her when she wakes up. Time for number eleven! )


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I want to thank dispatcher652 for being the sole person to leave feedback on the last chapter. Your perceptiveness is motivating!

Songs that fit:

What I've Done - Linkin Park  
Here's To The Night - Eve 6  
Better That We Break - Maroon 5  
Here Is Gone - GooGoo Dolls  
This Time Is The Last Time - Mae  
Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning) - Vertical Horizon

Chloe's personal soundtrack:

Someone Wake Me Up - The Veronicas  
By Your Side - CocoRosie  
Closing Time - Semisonic  
Stars - t.A.T.u.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

* * *

**The Eleventh Time****.**

* * *

She was worse than Kryptonite.

She could hit him where it hurt. Penetrate through him faster. Kill him from the inside. He couldn't stay away, and he couldn't make himself want to. Even if she was married to someone else.

The first year had been rough. Knowing that Chloe was with Oliver, giving him her smiles, laughs, kisses. It hurt more than he thought it would.

Every night for three hundred and sixty-five nights, he waited for her to call and say that she couldn't stay married to Oliver. That she realized she'd made a mistake. That she realized that she couldn't love Oliver as much as she loved him.

Every night, he fell asleep with the phone slipped under his pillow, waiting for that call.

It could've been worse. She could've shut him out completely. But Chloe stuck to her word and called him every day. He tried to visit her as much as possible, as much as his broken heart could allow. When she wasn't working for the League, she was helping him, just like the good old days they couldn't return to. And with her healing power a new obstacle present in their already intricate lives, he was responsible for hiding her body at the farm until she reanimated.

That year passed slowly. So did the second.

The end of the third year was when Oliver became aware of Chloe's power.

It was impossible to think that they could keep it from him indefinitely. Chloe was kidnapped by Lex and subjected to tests in one of his 33.1 facilities. Clark didn't have to explain; Oliver found out when he burst into a secluded lab and found her strapped down in the center of some mean-looking machines.

After she explained it to him, he told her he understood. He still loved her.

Things should've been easier for them. Instead, it got worse.

Chloe sacrificed her life once again by healing Oliver when he neared death via bomb explosion. Clark and Oliver sat in vigilance, waiting in fear, until she gasped and sat up, three days later.

Clark saw the torment in Oliver's eyes as he clutched on to Chloe. His body was taken over with tremors, and he actually cried. "Promise me," he said between racking sobs, "Promise me you'll never do that again."

"I can't," Chloe said, voice hoarse.

That was a complicated year.

Four years in total. One thousand, four hundred and sixty days. Thirty-five thousand and forty hours. Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred minutes. One hundred and twenty-six million, one hundred and forty-four thousand seconds.

He felt every second.

* * *

Clark landed on the terrace without making a sound, holding an injured blonde. "Hold on!" he said.

The doors burst open. "Inside, quickly."

Clark did as he was instructed, speeding into the loft and setting his freight onto a couch. "What happened?" he heard behind him. He clenched his jaw, not knowing what to say. Where to begin.

"Clark!"

He whirled around at the touch of Chloe's hand. He gazed down at her expectant face. "It was Lex. He set a trap for Green Arrow. He was waiting and when Oliver went for the control panels.."

Aside from the tears running down her face, she remained composed as she looked at the bloody mess that was her husband. Clark wished she didn't have to see that. Lex poured a full round in him, one in each limb and the remaining two in his torso. That he was still conscious by the time Chloe called Clark in and Clark found him was a miracle. Of course, he passed out on the flight to Queen Tower.

"Can you get the bullets out?" she asked, looking at Oliver's face.

In less than a minute, he retrieved them all.

Oliver woke up when Clark was extracting the last one and the scream he let out was.. unsettling.

Chloe was at his side. "You're home," she said steadily, "Clark and I are with you. He just removed the bullets, but you've lost a lot of blood.."

Clark's heart lurched when he saw her lower her head to try and hide away the pain. "Chloe.."

Sure, he could've brought Oliver to the hospital. But he knew Chloe would be able to help him faster, and Lex would obviously be keeping his eyes out for a man who checked into the E.R. for multiple gunshot wounds.

Though Chloe using her power had become a taboo subject for the three of them--or at least when Oliver was there--Clark had to bring it up before Oliver got worse. "I know you have to do it--"

"No! Listen to me, Chlo," Oliver said, his breath hitching with the effort he was exerting to speak, "Do _not_ do this. Don't you dare."

Chloe shook her head, sending tears every which way. "Oliver, I love you. I'm going to save you, no matter what it takes."

Before he could protest more, he passed out again, the throbbing too much to bear.

She looked up at Clark. Sadness filled her eyes. "Please tell me I'm doing the right thing."

Clark hesitated, but then his instinct to comfort his best friend took over. "It's what I would do."

"I can live with him hating me," she said, wincing at how ironic that sounded. Because soon, she would be dead. And then, Oliver wouldn't be able to hate her.

* * *

"How could you?"

Those were the first words Oliver said to her when she came to. Chloe sat up, looking around their bedroom. The clock on the nightstand told her it was three in the afternoon. Six days later than the date she remembered as current.

A glass of water was sitting next to the clock. She reached for it and took a sip.

"How could you do it?" Oliver asked, as if her silence didn't register. "You said you wouldn't put yourself on the line for me!"

"That's unfair," she finally said. "How many times have you put yourself in harm's way to keep me safe? How many times have you almost died trying to protect me?"

He looked away, and she could see the unshed tears in his eyes. "What I've done is completely different."

"Why? Because you're a superhero? And I'm supposed to be the damsel in distress?" She scoffed at the thought. "I'm not powerless, Oliver, and believe it or not, I can actually handle myself."

"Would you listen to yourself?" he blasted. "You can't "handle" death, Chloe. Death is death, and you've been cheating it more times than any normal person."

She tried not to flinch at the hostility he was projecting. "Notice, I've always come back."

"Yeah, well what happens if you don't?" he asked. "What happens if next time, your heart doesn't beat again and you don't wake up?"

Chloe set her glass down. "Then I'll know that I at least died doing something good."

He stopped mid-stride. "Look at you, all brave and stoic. But dying doesn't make you a hero."

"You should look at yourself," she argued. "When Clark brought you home you had six bullet holes in you. You were covered in blood. Now, you're as good as new."

"I'm not saying that I'm not thankful--"

"I'm not expecting gratitude. I'm expecting you to understand!" she said, shouting now. "If that had been me--if I had been shot and dying, and you had the power to save me, would you do it?"

Oliver didn't say anything, just balled his hands into fists. That was his answer. He would've done the same thing.

"I had a chance to stop you from dying. All I had to do was give up a few days. What else was I supposed to do?"

"You could've let me die."

Chloe drew back, her eyes watering up. "That is unthinkable."

"Is it?" he asked. He ran a hand through his hair. "If it hadn't been for you, I would've died. And I think that I would've been okay with that. But the thought of you dying, even considering the chance that you might come back.. It's too much of a risk."

"It's also my responsibility to decide if that risk is worth it."

Oliver slammed his fist into a closet door. "You are my wife, dammit!" he yelled. ( **A/N:** this is Oliver showing his frustration over not being able to control what the power does to Chloe when she uses it and not being able to protect her. ) "I can't lose you, Chloe. I can't. Even if that means I have to stay away from you."

She stilled, her spine stiff. "What are you saying?"

He didn't look at her anymore. "My life, the risks I take, are making you risk your life for me. I can't allow that, but I can't stop you from choosing to save me. So if I have to keep my distance in order to keep you safe, that's what I'm going to do."

"This is absolutely absurd," she said. "You can't guarantee that I'll be safe simply because we're not in the same room. Oliver, look at me. I don't mind dying."

He shook his head, letting the tears spill over. "You think your life can be so easily thrown away. It's stupid. I value your life above any other, including mine." He looked at her then. "My life is not worth it if you're gone. Completely wiped out from existence. Call me selfish, but I love you too much."

"So that's it?" she asked, trying to control her raging emotions. "You don't want to lose me, so you're letting me go?"

His face was overcome with sorrow. "Yes."

* * *

Clark picked Shelby's water bowl up and dumped the remaining content into the sink. What a boring life. So quiet--

The sound of banging against glass snapped him out of his train of thought. It sounded urgent, insistent. He went to the kitchen door and opened it.

Chloe was standing there in pajamas, a robe and some indoor slippers. Her hair was mussed, crazed, and her eyes were red and swollen. For a second, she opened her mouth to try and speak, but she wound up crying.

Wordlessly, he took her arm and walked her inside, sitting her in front of the kitchen counter. When she was there, he handed her a hand towel to wipe her tears and began to make her some coffee.

As weird as it sounded, he was glad to see her. He hadn't heard from Oliver in over two days, since the last time he went to Queen Tower to check up on Chloe. Seeing her alive, again, put him at ease despite her appearance.

Once she'd gotten some coffee in her system, she took a shaky breath and apologized. "I didn't mean to show up unannounced. I just--I left. I left Oliver."

Clark's grip on his mug reflexively tightened so much that it cracked. "What?"

"I left him," she repeated. "Physically left him. He was the one that said it was over."

He arched a skeptical brow. "Just like that?"

She sighed again, brushing at a stray tear. "Apparently using my meteor-induced gift to save my husband was a healthy marriage "don't". As soon as I woke up he informed me of that, and we had a less-than-stellar conversation about it. Between the lines, I knew he was giving me an ultimatum. Promise him that I would never again try to heal him or leave because he couldn't have my deaths on his conscience. I left. I didn't even think to change, just grabbed my purse and ran out of there."

Clark let the silence after her story hang while he processed the information. Oliver couldn't handle Chloe sacrificing herself for him. Even though Clark acknowledged the fact that Chloe could make her own choices, he could still see where Oliver was coming from. "Oliver doesn't want you to die, and I think that's a rational, reasonable thing to want."

"And I don't blame him, Clark," she said sincerely, "I don't. But I'm not normal. He can't ask me to be."

He nodded. "I understand."

"It just.. sucks. In all of our years of marriage, this is the one fundamental thing that separated us." She rubbed the back of her neck with a hand. "I wanted to think this meteor infection couldn't change everything in my life."

Clark reached for her hand and gently squeezed it. "I love you for who you are and the choices you make, and that won't change."

She gave him a wilted smile right before she yawned. He wasn't offended. She'd had a long night. He brought her up to Lois's old room and tucked her in.

As he closed the door behind him a million feelings raided his body. Chloe came to him in her time of need. A time when her world was being thrown upside down. So she didn't get it when he told her he loved her this time. He could work at it.

* * *

( The twelfth and final attempts will be posted tomorrow, back-to-back. They'll be stemming from the same scenario. )


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to dispatcher652, Kairan1979, Luna Kompton, and readadiction for reviewing the last chapter and everyone else who has given me feedback and insight into this fic. Couldn't have stuck to the time frame I had set out without ya!

Recommended songs:

Done Hanging On Maybe - Evan & Jaron  
Thought I Knew You - Matthew Sweet  
Love Is A Losing Game - Amy Winehouse  
Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning) - Vertical Horizon  
Viva Forever - Spice Girls

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

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**The Twelfth Time****.**

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Clark sped into the Isis Foundation, ignoring the obvious signs that it was closed i.e. dimmed lights and locked doors. He went directly to Chloe's office and turned to see her inside the hidden room with the supercomputer, sitting nonchalantly at the desk. Her head was moving back and forth, watching the various monitors aligning the walls. Each one depicted various maps, areas in Metropolis that were rife with crime. The monitor on the desk in front of her displayed the Metropolis Police Department's live feed incident log, updated instantly whenever a cop reported some happening on their two-way radios.

This foundation had become Chloe's new haven. Lana, using the money she received from Lex in their divorce settlement, set it up as a way to reach out to meteor-infected people. Some of those people were survivors of Lex's experiments and told some heartbreaking stories of their torment. Lana was horrified, so she built a room inside her office and installed the supercomputer in efforts to track Lex's movements and pass the information on to Clark and Chloe. She thought she was doing all she could. However, she found herself becoming more and more obsessed with shutting Lex's labs down. She conned one of his old scientists to create a suit with nanotechnology that would make her invincible and joined the Justice League to bring him down.

Chloe immediately stepped up to the plate in regard to Isis, fulfilling the foundation's day purpose as a counseling center. It suited her personality and it helped her cope not only with her own infection, but with moving on.

It took her eight months. Every so often in that time Clark would think that she was okay, but then she'd have another meltdown. He understood. It was hard to see the world keep revolving while a deep ache existed within. She loved Oliver and he loved her, but they would not budge on their standpoints about Chloe's power. It would have torn them apart, anyway.

Didn't mean she could get over it any easier.

The turning point was when Lana joined the Justice League and Chloe took over running Isis. Because Lana's suit gave her super strength, speed and invulnerability, she'd become a vital operative to the League. Though she and Victor could have done the research, it would've taken them more time, and there was the problem of having a tour guide during missions. Oliver paid Chloe a visit then, asking her to be Watchtower again. Reluctantly, she agreed to it, but only if she could carry out her duties from Isis.

"I thought I'd gotten better, Clark," she later told him. "But when I saw him, there were too many raw emotions in me. I told him it was better for me to work from Isis because of the supercomputer, but I was lying. I just didn't want to go back there."

The strange thing was, Chloe didn't get worse. She got better. With every moment she got back into contact with Oliver, with every mission, she got over him. When Clark asked her about that, she simply answered, "Being married tore us apart. Working together is mending us both up."

And it showed. Chloe was cheerier in the mornings when she made breakfast--her hunger made a come back, too. She went back to her colorful outfits instead of the mourning blacks and grays. All in all, she'd returned to the happier Chloe she'd always been to him.

At present, she appeared to be entirely satisfied simply sitting at her desk and checking for incidents. She probably was in an even better mood because nothing had been reported so far; it meant no danger for the local residents.

"Crime's asleep tonight, huh?" he asked.

She gave no indication of flinching. Without turning in her seat, she said, "Taking a nap, perhaps."

He walked around so that he was facing her. "I didn't make you jump at all?"

She smilled. "I've been living with you for the past two-thirds of a year. Any kind of scare reflex I had has been obliterated."

He matched her smile, then gave the computer monitors another glance. "I didn't know you were on night patrol."

"Had to. Lana's in Cambodia infiltrating what we suspect is Lex's secret headquarters for information on his whereabouts."

"And Victor?" he asked.

"Pulled a quadruple shift without a single complaint. I figured I could give him some time to refresh."

Computer cracks. Another sign Chloe was at least at ninety-five percent. He was going to say something when he heard a random digital sound.

Chloe's eyes fell to the screen on the desk. "Whoa," she said, tapping at a few keys. "Clark, there's been a major explosion on the east side of the city. Do you want first dibs or should I call Oliver?"

"I'll go," he said and rushed off.

He was circling the area when he heard the firetrucks. Following the sounds, he raced over to see the Metropolis Fire Department failing to save a semi that was engulfed in flames. Using his super breath he blew the fire out from a hidden distance. As the flame and smoke gusted out, he saw it.

A charred body with blue-grey eyes.

It would be the greatest coincidence if that was who Clark thought it was.

Reflexively he used his x-ray vision on the truck and spotted bits of a timer underneath. He sped over, quickly grabbing the biggest chunk he could find, and returned to Isis.

Chloe was waiting impatiently. "You're not going to believe this," she said, opening up a program, followed by a file. "The truck that just bit the dust was an unmarked vehicle registered to LexCorp."

Clark shook his head, but he knew the coincidences lined up. "Chloe, I saw the inside of the truck right after I put out the fire. I think Lex was in there."

* * *

Chloe tried tapping her foot to relieve the knots in her stomach as the elevator climbed to the top of Queen Tower, but she couldn't shake the anxiety. She was going to the place she used to call home for the first time in eight and a half months. She didn't know if she would be able to handle being there without missing the place.

The elevator stopped and she opened the cage and stepped in. Oliver sat on a couch, waiting for her. The way his eyes traveled up and down her body made her want to blush but she ignored the urge to shy away and walked over to him. She sat down in a couch adjacent to him. She pulled an object out of her pocket and set it on the glass coffee table in front of them. "A piece of the detonator to the bomb that destroyed a LexCorp truck that was conveniently housing its namesake," she announced. "Created by a former employee of Queen Industries."

She could've gone on forever, peeling away at the truth, but she stopped short. "You killed him."

To her astonishment, he shrugged as if it was nothing. "I killed Lex Luthor."

"You killed a human being," she argued.

"I killed a monster!" he shouted, leaning forward in his seat. "Lex captured meteor-infected people and tortured them with his experiments, including you. He got away with killing his own father. Humanity? His was stripped away a long time ago."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but she wanted to scream back at him, ask him "What the hell are you thinking?" But she waited for him to sit back, calm down, too. "Your convictions do not allow you to become an executioner, Oliver. Murder isn't justice."

He stared at her, long and hard. No desire in his eyes this time. Only sorrow. "Consider it vindication; he cost me you." He kept his gaze steady as he added, "For that alone I should've killed him."

She shook her head, grief-stricken. Memories of how sweet her ex-husband used to be were shrouded with this image of a heartless killer. "This wasn't even cold-blooded; you ended his life out of spite. You used to say no revenge. No exceptions. That's who you were."

She stood up, walked back to the elevator. With one more cast glance, she said, "I guess he did cost you me after all."

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Clark burst into Chloe's room, interrupting her in the middle of drying her hair. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt and long pajama pants--wait, were those his pajama pants?

So distracted was he that she had to initiate conversation though she'd been the one barged in on. "Sorry, I couldn't find any of my sweats, but I'm glad you're here," she said, raising her hairdryer up. "The switch is stuck. Do you think you could--"

"Chloe, we need to talk," he said, finally forming words.

She furrowed her brow. "Are you all right?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You just.. you sound so doom and gloom." She set the hairdryer down. "What is it?"

"I love you," he breathed, yet he felt like he was breathless at the same time.

"Clark," she said, and she started to smile.

He knew that smile, could recognize it after all these years. She was going to dismiss his confession, one that sounded so simple but meant everything to him. He couldn't let her do it again. Not again. "No," he said, stopping her from rationalizing his love away. She looked at him, confused.

Maybe it wasn't because the timing was always off. Maybe it wasn't because he wasn't loud enough.

Maybe it was because he'd been saying it wrong this entire time.

"I'm in love with you."

And just like that, he'd set the fireworks off in her eyes. That was the feeling he'd been denied, the one he'd been refused for so long. He felt like he was flying.

She pursed her lips, already shaking her head. "Clark--"

"Chloe Sullivan," he interrupted, refusing to back down, "I love you much more than you could ever know. I've loved you since before you told me you knew exactly what I was. No matter what's happened, no matter what's tried to force us apart, I still love you. I've been waiting for you to see that you love me, too. And if a decade isn't enough, I'll wait as long as it takes."

She didn't say anything, just stood there, shocked. Admittedly, he was hoping for a small smile, for her to run into his arms and kiss the daylights out of him. But she just stood there, staring at him as though she could see right through him.

The adrenaline he felt from letting his bottled up emotions out waned, and in her silence, he realized she had nothing to say.

"It's okay," he said, trying to block the disappointment from leaking into his voice. "I just wanted you to know how I feel."

Still nothing.

Heat flooded his face. Did he just estrange his best friend, the woman he loved? God, but she wouldn't speak.

After waiting for a whole two miserable minutes, he turned, walking to the door. "Good night," he said, and closed the door behind him.

Next thing he knew he was running out of the house and into the road before propelling into the sky.

Chloe didn't love him. He was an idiot.

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( Keep going! I'm almost done getting this off my chest. )


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Thirteenth Times a Charm  
**Author:** aquaxeyes  
**Rating: **K+ to T, no reason (yet)  
**Full Description:** 3 words. 13 attempts. Just how many times can Clark put his heart on the line without Chloe getting it? AU. Chlark and some Chlollie.

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**Author's Notes: **There was no way to wrap this story up properly. I didn't want to explain every little detail, because rambling about the Chlark complexities would be another story in itself. This is how I thought I should end it.

Ending songs:

Say It Again - Marie Digby  
Make You Feel My Love - Adele  
Love Is Something - Mozella  
You Picked Me - A Fine Frenzy  
You First Believed - Hoku

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story.

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**The Thirteenth Time****.**

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Chloe ripped her clothes off their hangers, throwing them into a duffel bag without attempting to fold them or keep them in any order. She couldn't stay there. She got to the far end of the closet and came across the dress she wore when Oliver proposed to her. She hadn't worn it since that night. She yanked at the dress, wishing for some reason that she could tear it to shreds. But since she knew she would probably regret it later, she tossed it on the floor. The next thing she came to was the white cardigan.

Chloe took this piece of the hanger gently. It had been one of her favorite sweaters. This, too, she'd resigned not to wear again. It had become memorabilia. She slipped her arms through the sleeves. The material was still so soft, caressing her skin. She was sure it looked hideous on top of her t-shirt, though.

Amused by her nonsensical thoughts, she turned to her full-length mirror. She burst out laughing when she realized how dumb she looked, but she struck a pose anyway. As she stuck her hands in her pockets to strike another pose she came across something. It felt like a piece of paper.

Chloe took the paper out and opened it, scanning the lines until it was over.

Overhead the sun was setting. The birds were scattering. The wind was whistling in gentle breezes.

The only real sound was of Chloe letting out a sob until it became full-on weeping.

She balled her eyes out for an hour, her body a spineless mess on the floor. But she wouldn't let go of the letter. No. It was the most precious gift she'd ever received, and she hadn't known she had it until now.

After that hour of utter hell, she forced herself to sit up, wipe her face. Think about everything.

Clark just told her he was in love with her. In her heart, she knew he wasn't lying. But that jaded, cynical, Lois part of her kept telling herself, "Stop, Chloe, before you begin to hope. You'll always get burned." And it was true. Clark had a track record of leaving third degree burns on her heart.

Loving Clark was the biggest, deepest secret she had. She couldn't tell anyone. She couldn't let him see. And so she made it a forgotten memory, faded so he--her best friend who knew her oh so well--couldn't tell, couldn't read the suffering behind the strong, independent girl face. To her, it was a huge accomplishment that she had him fooled.

But what good was the mask if she was only fooling herself?

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Clark didn't know how she knew he'd be there, but her steps were sure, determined as she entered the barn and climbed up the stairs to the loft. He wished she would just stay as far away as possible, but those steps continued until she plopped down next to him on the couch.

She didn't say anything--what a surprise--but she did make it a point to stare at his profile until he felt like his nose had grown two feet long.

Irritated, he turned to her, ready to tell her off, but when he saw her eyes, red and puffy, he stopped short.

She nodded as if to confirm that she'd finally gotten the reaction she wanted, then handed him a piece of paper. Showing dramatic reluctance, he opened it and his heart just about dropped to his stomach.

_Chloe,_

_I've been keeping something from you I've buried inside, but whenever I try to tell you, something comes up or I can't find a way to make you understand. So I'm hoping that these words can be as clear to you as the truth that's in my heart._

_The truth is that I love you. I've loved you for a while now--_

Clark drew back, sighing. "Why are you showing me this?" he asked wearily.

He started to crumple the paper but Chloe placed a hand on his. His sharp intake of breath at the touch didn't go unnoticed, but she ignored it and took the letter from him. Saying nothing, she handed him another piece of paper.

This one was more damaged, having been folded and successfully crumpled. It crinkled when he unfolded it.

_Dear Clark,_

_I wanna let you in on a secret. I'm not who you think I am. In fact, my disguise is so thin, I'm surprised you haven't seen right through me._

_I'm the girl of your dreams masquerading as your best friend. Sometimes I want to rip off this facade like I did at the Spring Formal, but I can't. Because you'll get scared and you'll run away again. So I decided it's better to live with a lie than expose my true feelings._

_My dad told me there are two types of girls—the ones you grow out of and the ones you grow into. I really hope I'm the latter. I may not be the one you love today, but I'll let you go for now, hoping one day you'll fly back to me, because I think you're worth the wait._

_--Chloe_

"I wrote that sophomore year of high school."

Clark turned to Chloe, shocked.

She smiled, going on. "I wanted to give it to you so badly, but I found another way to let you know. I read it to you when you were sick. And when you started to come to, you called out for Lana."

Clark looked away, his face flushed with shame. "Chloe--"

"I know," she said. "It was high school. You were my high school crush, and Lana had been yours. Everything else had been a distorted reality."

Chloe sat back on the couch, taking on a relaxed pose, but Clark could hear her heart racing. Calm, she was anything but. "Clark, I'm sorry I didn't say anything when you told me earlier. Actually, I'm sorry I didn't understand whenever you tried to tell me. I guess I'd gotten so used to everything being one-sided that I never thought--"

"I get it," he interrupted. "It's easy to assume feelings are one-sided. That you don't deserve to be so lucky."

There was a moment of silence. It wasn't awkward; they'd spent too much of their lives together to be uncomfortable. It was more a passing of time for them to reflect on all the missed insinuations, smart comments, and toughed-out silences that led them there.

Chloe spoke first. "You mean to tell me that you kept your peace when I married Oliver?"

"It wasn't peace," Clark said, avoiding her eyes. "More like agony."

He felt a hand on his arm. When he turned to her, her eyes were watering. "And here I thought I was all cried out," she said, wiping at her face.

"I want to know," he said, trying not to sound too demanding to her in her fragile state, "Did you honestly not know, or even suspect?"

More tears flooded her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. She took his head in her hands and made him look here in the eyes. "Did you mean what you said in your letter?"

He did more than nod. He kissed her. He let everything he'd had to hold back, the love and pain, into that kiss, trying to savor it, imprint it in his mind. But then, he realized, she was kissing him back, easing the ache his heart had been carrying for ten years.

"Me, too," she said against his lips. She brushed them with her own. "Say it again."

"I love you," he said, unafraid.

Another kiss, one he felt to his bones. "I love you, too."

The truth set him free.

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( The end. )


End file.
